


Sunrise at Blue Cove

by Greysgate



Series: A Journey Through Night [7]
Category: The Pretender (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 11:24:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14670081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greysgate/pseuds/Greysgate
Summary: Jarod finally finds a road to justice from The Centre.





	Sunrise at Blue Cove

Gemini stood on the roof garden, admiring the variety of plants in bloom in their various pots and planter boxes.  The landscape of Galleons Lap was a veritable Eden, an oasis in the harsh landscape, watered by the river nearby and tended with love.  She liked the place, and for the briefest instant imagined herself a part of life there. 

But that sort of dream was not for the likes of her, and she quickly put it out of her mind.  When she completed her mission, she would return to the Basque Scientific Park and work on a few projects she had been putting off until she regained control of her emotions, and after that she would find herself a new lover or two and steal something worthwhile.  She had enough information from the second DSA disk to keep her busy for quite a while, toppling governments left and right, causing political upheaval all over the globe, and setting up a chain of events that would isolate The Centre from its network of support and leave it vulnerable to whatever enemy she set up to attack it. 

Jarod might not be interested in vengeance anymore, but that didn't keep her from taking it in his name. 

She began to lay the framework in her mind, planning out her strategy while she waited, until she heard the light footstep behind her that she had been expecting.  She faced the redhead coolly, unsure what to make of the unshed tears sparkling in her green eyes. 

"You watched it all?" asked Gemini patiently. 

Miss Parker nodded. 

"I would like to see Harmon Winterbourne prosecuted for your mother's death," said the brunette. 

"So would I," the other woman agreed.  "But he died of bone cancer five years ago.  Thank God it was a long, painful death." 

Gemini nodded in acceptance.  "At least you have your answers now.  I don't believe your father was certain they were plotting to kill her, but he gave them _carte blanche_ anyway.  He allowed it to happen." 

Miss Parker lifted her chin and gave the other woman a steady, firm gaze.  "I agree.  He could have stopped it, could have gotten her  -- and me --  out of the way.  But he didn't.  And that makes him responsible, too." 

Silence ebbed and flowed between the two women.  A breeze came up, ruffling their hair and bobbing the heads of the flowers that surrounded them. 

"So what will you do now?  Will you go back there as if nothing happened?" 

Miss Parker did not smile.  "No.  I have what I needed.  Thank you for giving me the disk." 

Gemini gave a graceful half bow.  "Then perhaps you'll help me out with an idea I had.  If you can't have what you want from Harmon Winterbourne, then perhaps you can get it from the men who helped him carry out his plan." 

The redhead crossed her arms over her chest, ready to refuse at a moment's notice.  "I'm listening," she offered hesitantly.

Gemini outlined her initial thoughts without giving specific details, just in case she walked away without the other woman's enthusiastic support.  But she watched Miss Parker's stance change as she talked, becoming pensive at first, and then open, accepting.  Gemini could see by her body language when she’d won Miss Parker's support. 

"It's a deal," the redhead agreed, holding out her hand to seal the partnership. 

"Are you sure you don't want to think it over, Miss Parker?" asked Gemini, wanting to be certain the woman was fully committed. 

The answer was in her eyes, gleaming with fiery purpose.  "This is a good place for getting a fresh start.  I've been giving some thought to taking a new name, and the one I keep coming back to is my mother's maiden name.  She deserved a second chance, and I ought to start doing something positive with the life she gave me.  Call me Catherine.  Catherine Jameson," she said softly, and smiled at her new friend.  "Or maybe Rio.  I could still use that as a nickname." 

"Welcome aboard, Rio," said Gemini.  "My name is Jennifer Tansey, but nobody's called me that since I was a little girl.  It seems we all have strange pasts in this small universe, don't we?" 

"That's an understatement.  What do they call you now?" 

"Gemini Rising." 

Miss Parker laughed.  "Gemini, the twins.  How appropriate." 

"They do seem to be the key to all this, don't they?" 

"Just tell me what you want me to do, Gemini, and I'm there." 

"Thank you for your help, Rio.  I look forward to working with you." 

The redhead bent down to pluck a red hibiscus from a large pot beside her. 

"Where did you meet Jarod, anyway?  Or was it Justin?" 

Gemini grinned.  "Jarod.  We met in Flagstaff, after I stole his briefcase from him.  I'm a professional thief, you know."

Parker raised an inquisitive eyebrow and fixed the other woman with an intent, hungry look.  "Do you still have it?  The Halliburton, I mean."  She noted Gemini's stony expression and shrugged it off.  "Oh, well.  I don't need it anymore anyway."  She grinned.  "But if you're looking for an apprentice, I think I might be interested.  You have an exciting line of business." 

"We might give it a shot," Gemini responded coolly.  "But I do have a distinct advantage.  Telekinesis." 

Miss Parker shrugged.  "I can work around that. I have a unique set of talents all my own." 

And Gemini smiled, quite certain the woman had the nerve to pull off even the most dangerous caper of all.  "I'll be counting on that," she returned warmly. 

The thief left the rooftop by the back stairs, in search of a tall, dark man. 

 

* * *

 

 

Justin parked the minivan in a grove of trees where the gravel road ended and cut the engine. 

"We hike in from here," he announced, and the passengers disembarked and began loading their backpacks and shrugging into them.  Justin picked up one of the tall, aluminum-framed packs with a baby carrier built into it, and Faith strapped in one of the twins.  He had already requested to carry in his namesake, leaving baby Michael to ride on his mother's back, giving Jarod a lighter pack to carry in deference to his still-healing shoulder. 

Once everyone was loaded and ready, Justin led the way into the mountains, following an all but invisible trail.  By nightfall they reached a small way station, complete with outhouse and permanent lean-to shelter, and the whole group bedded down for the night.  The twins stayed up late talking, because Jarod found it impossible to sleep, knowing he was so close to finding his mother. 

Morning took forever to arrive, and when the last campers had risen and readied themselves for the final part of the trek, he was right behind Justin, pressing his brother to move faster toward their destination.  It was late afternoon when the cabin came in sight, and Jarod's excitement knew no bounds.  He ran up and down the line of hikers, urging them on while they grinned at him and kept moving at a steady pace through the thick trees.  As they wandered the forest, moving upward toward the slope where the lodge called Harper's Rest was perched, the thick log building seemed to appear and disappear among the trees.  But Jarod never lost track of where it lay, leading the way now that he knew where he was going. 

Justin had already told him what to expect, and with a smile of understanding Faith finally told him to go ahead of them, that they would catch up to him later.  He needed no further encouragement, and set off at a fast jog across the rocky slope, wary of his footing, not wanting to turn an ankle and slow down the inevitable. 

His eyes roamed over the lodge as he approached it, noting how sturdily it had been constructed, how well it concealed its secret.  The roomy cabin had been built into the side of the mountain, commanding a view of the entire countryside surrounding it.  The caretaker opened the door as he stepped onto the deck and greeted him with a friendly welcome.  Jarod was almost beyond speech, struggling to get out his request to see his mother. 

The old man ushered him into the lodge, escorted him into the library and presented him with a standard remote control, even though there was no television or stereo in the room.  With trembling fingers, Jarod aimed the remote at the wall of books and punched in a numerical code, and watched as the wall sank down into the floor, revealing a stainless steel elevator car that had a distinctly "government issue" feel to it. 

Jarod didn't hesitate.  He stepped into the car and watched the doors close, ignoring the warning bell ringing loudly in his subconscious.  He felt a sensation of claustrophobia clutch at him for the briefest instant, and conquered it.  He was going to see his mother, and he would go _anywhere_ for that privilege, even back into the depths of The Centre. 

He found it ironic that his mother had gone underground several years after The Centre had taken him, that she had made her own fortune from brilliant endeavors of a more benevolent nature, and piloted the program into which he was descending.  Harper's Rest was the code name for several privately funded studies, all taking place in the same isolated laboratory, built into the shell of a former subterranean nuclear missile silo.  Harper's was an earthbound space station prototype, dedicated to the discovery of an artificially controlled, stable source of gravity/anti-gravity, as well as environmental studies.  The installation was a complete biosphere, with a marine level on the lower floors, several levels of greenhouses to provide plants for biological studies, and a select group of insects, animals and birds which were allowed complete freedom in the greenhouse areas, where they could be studied easily and not interfere with biological management. 

Under the pseudonym of Dr. Moore, Jarod's mother was the chief scientist in charge of the whole project, and everyone who worked in the installation knew her.  And even though Justin had not been a resident of Harper's Rest for more than ten years, his annual visits made certain that everyone knew his face, and the scientists and technicians he encountered along the way greeted him with pleased surprise and directed him toward his mother's current location. 

"She's in Eden II," said a pony-tailed young man in a paint-splattered baseball cap.  He wore a button on his lab coat that read, _That was Zen.  This is Tao._ He pointed with his Mickey Mouse pen down the hallway on Sublevel 15 toward a pair of sliding glass doors.

Jarod thanked him briefly and pushed the green access button, watching the doors slide open, admit him, and slide closed behind him.  Two steps forward another set of glass doors parted to admit him, and through the third set he saw a jungle of greenery waiting on the other side.  The several sets of doors were to trap any accidentally escaping animals, he knew, and wondered what sort of creatures would be part of the studies being conducted.  He walked into a room filled with the scent of fertile earth and green growing things, flowers and fur and feathers subtly reminding him that the bioscape was complete.  He could hear voices up ahead, and wandered carefully toward them, wondering what he would find. 

He was surprised that the enclosed room didn't have that stale, steam-room quality to it that other enclosed gardens had, and guessed the ambient room temperature to be somewhere around 72 degrees.  There was a breeze blowing, and the air was fresh.  He would have to ask how that was accomplished so far below ground. 

But curiosity vanished when he pushed a broad leaf out of his way and spied a pair of young scientists moving toward him from a lagoon in a clearing up ahead.  They took no notice of him and continued toward the exit, still deep in conversation, but he wasn't looking at them anymore, couldn't hear them.  Another figure captured his attention, a woman in a blue lab coat covered with screen printed butterflies, and she sat on a collapsible chair with a small, furry animal in her lap, stroking and talking to it as it wriggled to get free. 

"Cree, craw, toad's foot..." she sang as she examined it, checking for fleas.  "Geese walk barefoot..."

She chuckled as it stuck its head into her sleeve and tried to crawl inside. 

"No, you beast!" she teased affectionately.  "No treat till you've had your checkup."  But she let the ferret go anyway and the long, slender creature tunneled up her sleeve in search of a raisin.  She stood up quickly, laughing out loud as the animal's progress began to tickle her, and reached inside the lab coat to bring it out and release it.  The furry hunter sat at her feet for a moment, begging, and finally she produced a raisin from her pocket and offered it.  The creature snatched it out of her fingertips and ran away into the underbrush to gorge on its treasure. 

She was still smiling when she stood up and faced the man emerging from the greenery, and gave a start when she recognized his face. 

"Justin, baby!  It isn't Christmas yet, is it?  Jeez, I lose track of time in this place."

 She saw the emotions in his face as she approached him, saw the depth of his joy, shadowed by enormous grief, and suddenly knew.  She couldn't move, her feet rooted to the earth beneath them. 

"It can't be," she whispered.  She started to tremble.  "Oh, my God.  Oh, God."

 He seemed to be moving in slow motion.  She watched him come, his hands limp at his sides, great sobs wrenching out of his chest, a flood of tears drenching his cheeks. 

"Jarod!" his mother whispered.  "Oh, Jarod.  My baby.  My lost one." 

She opened her arms to him, and he fell into them. 

They were still locked in that embrace when Justin brought the rest of the travelers into the room.  She couldn't let go of Jarod, but pulled away enough to open an arm to her other son.  She kissed them both, and buried her face against Jarod's chest as she wept.  The trio's reunion was observed from a respectful distance by most of the others, but two hung back, lost in the greenery, waiting for the appropriate moment to be introduced.  When Jarod could speak again, he reached for Faith, who came to him immediately with baby Michael in her arms. 

Jarod gave her a few moments with both of her grandsons before shifting a glance at Justin to ask a silent question.

But his brother was already searching for another face, and found it peering from behind a stand of elephant ears.  He knew she was uncomfortable, and if he didn't act soon, he would lose her forever. 

"Momya," he said to his mother, using his childhood nickname for her, "there's someone special I wanted you to meet, too.  She saved my life a couple of months ago, and we've been living together ever since." 

He beckoned to Gemini, and was relieved when she moved toward them.  But her cool, distant expression worried him.  He watched her politely shake his mother's hand, saw the confusion on Momya's face, and watched her warm brown eyes turn toward him for an explanation. 

"Pleased to meet you, Gemini," she said softly.  "I was beginning to wonder if Justin was ever going to fall in love.  You're the first girl he's ever brought home to meet me, so I have to think he's finally done it." 

"It's a purely business arrangement," Gemini assured her without looking at Justin.  "I just wanted to make certain he got home safely.  And now that he has, I'll be on my way.  It's a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Pierce.  Or should I call you Dr. Moore?" 

She started to take a step back, but Justin swept her up in his arms and laid a kiss on her lips that would have melted titanium. 

"Just business, my ass!" he growled sensuously.  "We've been dancing around each other for weeks now, and I'm not waiting for you to read the signals right any longer."  He shrugged out of his backpack and handed it, baby and all, to Jarod, then scooped Gemini up in his arms and headed out the door with her, ignoring the astonished stares of the group he left behind. 

"What was that all about?" asked Jarod dazedly. 

Jarod's mother looked at Faith knowingly.  "I think he's going to see if his old room is occupied or not," she said with a wink.  But then her humor vanished and she turned to Jarod with subdued joy.  "Where have you been all these years, son?  Do you know who took you?  How did you find us again?" 

"Everything in time, Momya," he answered with a sad smile, his eyes turning to the other shadow still hanging back in the greenery.  He could see Joaquin's snow-white hair easily, though he appeared to be trying to hide himself, suddenly shy.  "Come on out," Jarod called.  "It's time for all of us to be together now." 

Joaquin St. James stepped out into the clearing and met the eyes of the woman he had loved and lost three decades before. 

"I didn't...  Why didn't you..."  He stopped, swallowed his heart back down.  Tears filled his eyes as he gazed at her, not seeing the older woman she had become, with graying copper hair and crow's feet around her eyes.  To him, she was still 24, lithe and strong, vibrant with life and so full of ideas she rarely slept.  She was a woman of passion and strong beliefs, and he could see in her eyes that she still remembered him.  Sadness and regret poured anew down her cheeks, and she walked slowly toward him, unable to tear her gaze away from his.

 "I guessed where the research was going," she said softly, her voice trembling with tears.  "I heard about the projects they were developing for gifted children, and I knew that mine  -- ours --  would be prime candidates, just the type they would be looking for, if not for one project, then for half a dozen others.  I knew they wouldn't be safe.  So I left before you knew I was even carrying them."  She sniffed, trying to hold back surging emotions that were impossible to fully control.  "And I was right.  I knew when Jarod disappeared that they’d found us.  I didn't know where they had taken him, but I knew who had him, and I had to make sure Justin was safe before I could start looking for Jarod."

 She turned around with an apologetic smile to her son, aware that he could hear her every word.  "But I could never find out where he had been taken, and if I had gone in person to demand his return, they would have kept me, too.  I couldn't do that to Justin, so I just buried both of us.  We stayed on the run for ten years, until I built up enough funds to get this place started.  And I've been here ever since.  Justin left ten years ago to be on his own, but not a day has gone by that I haven't prayed for Jarod and hoped he would come back to us somehow."

 Joaquin stepped closer, lifted his hands and cupped her face in them.  He whispered, his voice so low that only she could hear it. 

"And not a night has gone by since you left me that I didn't dream of finding you again, Helen."  He kissed her then, hungrily, and when she stepped back from him it was like a slap in the face. 

"I changed my name," she said guiltily, directing her gaze toward the ground.  "I'm Dr. Moore now." 

"You don't expect _me_ to call you that, do you?" Joaquin asked harshly.  He couldn't accept that she didn't want him as much as he did her.  His gaze flicked to her nametag sewn above the breast pocket of her lab coat and took note of the first initial "N". 

She saw the movement and tucked her hands in her pockets.  She sighed, directing her eyes toward the ferret hopping out of the underbrush and climbing up her pant leg to beg for another treat.  She gave it one as she spoke again. 

"I knew that making myself vulnerable to a man would be a disaster for Justin and me," she began.  "So I gave myself a reminder never to let another man hold me, never to fall in love, never to let a man get close to me emotionally.  I don't know how to be a woman anymore." 

"You don't have to run from me, Helen," Joaquin assured her, wanting desperately to touch her again.  "We're safe here, and I'm willing to stay as long as you want me here." 

"My name," she sighed, straightening up and meeting his eyes again, "is Never Moore.  _Nevermore._ " 

She felt a large, strong hand settle on her shoulders from behind, and touched it, knowing it was her son. 

"It's all right, Momya," he promised.  "You don't have to protect yourself anymore.  Why don't you just take a little time and get to know Dad again?" 

He smiled, and kissed her long copper hair.  "It feels so good to say that.  Momya.  Dad..."  He slid his arms around her and hugged her back against his chest until he lifted her off her feet.  "I'm home!  Let's enjoy being a family for a little while, okay?" 

He kissed her again and let her go, then picked up the backpack and his son Justin, and led Faith out of the greenhouse to look for someone who could set them up in a room somewhere. 

Helen Pierce and Joaquin St. James stood staring at each other in the ensuing silence, and after a moment, she smiled.

"I love you, Helen," he said huskily.  "I always will." 

"You sound so sure of yourself, flyboy," she teased, remembering a similar conversation of ages past and hoping she got her lines right. 

"I may not know physics, biology and mathematical computation as well as you do, doll, but I know what I want, and I don't let anything stop me from getting it." 

"Never," she whispered, tempting him with a wicked grin. 

"Forever," he argued passionately.  He took her in his arms and played out the scene exactly as it had happened long ago in another laboratory halfway across the universe.

 

* * *

 

 

"Put me down, you moron!" Gemini demanded, enjoying the feel of Justin's arms supporting her, but afraid the effort of carrying her might hurt him. 

Justin punched the access button to his quarters with his elbow and set her on her feet just inside the spacious quarters and closed the door behind them. 

She glared at him.  "It's time for me to leave," she bit out angrily. 

He picked up a screwdriver from a tool kit still open on the desk beside a disassembled computer, and jammed it into the electronic brain that controlled the door. 

Gemini didn't need anyone to tell her that he had just sealed them both inside.  Even if they called for help on the intercom, it would be hours before anyone could disconnect the controls and manually push the door open. 

"I think it's time we got a few things straight," he snapped back.  "And to do that, we need some time together.  No servants looking over our shoulders, no family to butt in.  Just you and me and that bed, Gemini.  That's all we need for a day or two.  Now, are you going to take your clothes off, or do you want me to do it for you?" 

Her frown was awesome in its severity, but it didn't fool him for a moment. 

She crossed her arms coolly over her ample bosom and arched a delicate black eyebrow at him.  He was still pointing at the neatly made single bed, his brown eyes smoldering with passion that threatened to blaze up out of control at any moment. 

She could be cruel and lie to him, tell him that she wasn't interested, but he knew her too well to believe that.  He had shared her company every day for two months, and constantly probed and challenged her, cornering her far too often for her to be comfortable. She’d met her match. He always knew what she was thinking, and accepted her defeat with a smile that torched his wits and made his clothes smolder. 

He couldn't unbutton his shirt fast enough, and she moved calmly toward the bed, turning down the sheets neatly as he yanked off his hiking boots.  She kicked off hers and reclined on the mattress, teasing him with her slow, languid movements. 

Justin grinned at her and turned suddenly away from the bed.  "Two can play," he growled sensuously, and strolled over to the stereo on the bookshelf against the far wall, picking through the stack of CDs for just the right music.  Loreena McKennit's _Mask and Mirror_ was his first choice, the singer's clear, gentle soprano woven through music with a distinctly Arabic flavor, creating an exotic backdrop for seduction. 

He dug a handful of emergency candles out of a drawer and lit them with a primitive flint striker, then set them on tables and shelves near the bed.  A dimmer switch on the wall near the bathroom let him adjust the room lighting downward, and then he lay down on his back on the bed, taking up most of the mattress with his wide shoulders and long legs, and lay still. 

"Oh, I didn't realize you wanted a nap, love," Gemini teased.  She eased up on one elbow so she could look down into his smugly pleased face.  With a light kiss on his nose, she lay on her side next to him, sandwiched fully clothed between Justin and the wall, and closed her eyes.  The music beckoned her.  She rose and began to wander around the room, studying his possessions while the rhythm called to her body.  Her senses were tingling; visions of carnal pleasures rippled through her mind's eye as she moved, and soon her hips were swaying to the rhythm of the sensual soundtrack.  Her eyes closed, and she lost herself in the flowing music.  She lifted her arms and began to dance, unaware of the man watching her hungrily.  She did not feel his hands touch as they skimmed up her sides, for she was already imagining them there.  His lips grazed her cheek, trailed downward and tasted her throat as she bared it to him. 

He stepped into the rhythm with her, pulling her body gently against his.  She was a flame in his arms, burning him with her bright dance.  Her every curve undulated against him, filling his hollows and supporting his bulges with her softness.  She flowed like water over his arm as he bent her backward, swayed like a willow in the wind as he brought her upright again.  She stared at him through slitted green eyes glittering with desire, and his mouth closed over hers as a groan of pleasure slipped out. 

They danced to the bed and floated down onto it like a pair of entwined snowflakes.  Justin's hand slid up beneath her sweater to her breasts, kneading them as he drank the sweet honey of her lips.  She sighed into his mouth and thrust her pelvis against his, inviting him to explore further.  He pushed her sweater upward to bare her breasts and she raised her arms to assist him in taking the garment off. 

"No," he whispered, rising up to meet her eyes.  "Keep it on.  Keep the dragon in the dark." 

She lay utterly still beneath him, aware of the significance of his remark.  The last of her defenses shattered, and he swept into her heart on gilded wings, warming the cold places and filling up the emptiness that had haunted her all her life. 

"I want to keep you, Gemini," he added.  "Don't leave.  Not unless you take me with you." 

His fingers worked the zipper on her jeans, and he slid them down her hips without taking his eyes from hers. 

She could see a trace of fear in his eyes, and the impossible evidence of love he had kept hidden from her before.  But she knew it wouldn't work between them.  They were too much alike, and neither of them could say the words that would bind them together. 

"I'm not a pet, love," she reminded him sadly.  "I'm not… housebroken.  I tend to run off if someone tries to tie me down.  And I bite.  I'm not nice at all." 

"Neither am I," he growled.  He rolled onto his side long enough to undo his zipper and free himself from his jeans.  Lying between her legs, he positioned himself for consummation, glancing down between them to guide himself into her.  He hesitated at the last moment, facing her and searching her eyes for assurance that she was willing.  Her hips rocked upward, drawing him inside in answer. 

"Gemini," he breathed, and the rest of the things he wanted to tell her fled from his consciousness. 

"My name is Jennifer," she sighed against his mouth. 

"Gemini," he repeated firmly.  "The other half of my soul."  He sank into her deeply, gasping at the pleasure of it.  "Jesus!  I've needed you for so long." 

He kissed her, and stifled the denial he knew was coming.  With his body he distracted her from her argument, operating solely on instinct.  The skills he had developed over the years with other women were useless to him now, for this was no ordinary woman.  She was as smart as he was and he knew it, but just as vulnerable to desires of the flesh, and he intended to make their encounter so unique, so intoxicating that she would not be able to leave him behind.  Her responses shocked and delighted him, and she proved to be every bit as awesome in bed as she was out of it. 

Justin made love to her for hours, and when she drifted off to sleep he lay awake behind her, nesting together like two spoons in a drawer, more afraid than ever that she would leave.  Perhaps not today, or even tomorrow, but too soon.  He would never get tired of her as he had other women.  Of that he was absolutely certain. 

And he knew of only one way to tie her to him so she would think twice about walking away. 

He rose and began to search quietly through her backpack until he found what he wanted.  With trembling fingers he punched every last pill out of the plastic blister pack and tossed them down the toilet.  He would have to keep her holed up in his room longer than he initially thought, and took stock of the emergency provisions every suite had in the wall pantry.  He calculated the days, portions of food available, and decided they could make it for at least a month without interruption. 

Last on the list, he set about repairing the computer he had left in pieces on the console so he could send a "Do Not Disturb" message out to the entire complex, and encourage them to take at least 30 days before commencing repairs on the door.  That done, he shut the unit down and returned it to its previous state of disrepair, climbed back into bed, and gently woke her to start again.

 

* * *

 

 

Justin stabbed at his breakfast with extreme prejudice, taking time to look up from the plate only long enough to glare at his mate across the table. 

"What's the matter, Justin?" asked his mother casually as she poured herself more fresh squeezed orange juice from the facility's own dwarf orange trees. 

"He's just angry because I wouldn't let him get me pregnant," Gemini volunteered, nibbling at a biscuit on her plate.  She shot a superior glance at her lover and flexed a polite smile. 

"I forgot about your telekinesis," he mumbled around a mouthful of waffle. 

Helen Pierce's surprise lasted only a moment before she wiped away the startled look and decided the conversation was none of her business. 

"You opened that door _so_ easily," Justin went on.  "I woke up this morning and there you were, sliding it open like magic.  Jesus, Gemini!  It was the only thing I could think of to make you stay with me."  He reached across the table and covered her hand with his, eyes pleading, voice soft with regret.  "Don't go, lady.  Or take me with you.  But _please_ don't just walk away.  You know how I feel." 

He laid down his fork and signed to her, _You complete me, Gemini.  You had me at 'hello'._ "Corny movie reference and all," he said softly, "I need you.  Please stay." 

Gemini couldn't bear looking into his hurt face any longer, and directed her attention to the fruit and homemade bread on her plate.  "I have things to do, love," she said softly.  "Old debts that need to be paid.  You belong here with your family."  He started to say something else, but she cut him off, meeting his gaze with a determined one of her own.  "It won't work between us, Justin.  We both know that." 

He slammed his hands down on the table hard, making silverware and plates jump, forgetting they were surrounded by other people, who were valiantly trying to stay out of what was obviously a private argument. 

Justin leaned over the narrow table, grasped Gemini by the upper arms and planted a deep, anguished kiss on her mouth, which left her stunned speechless for a moment. 

"Deny it all you want," he rasped, letting her settle back into her chair. "We were made for each other.  There will never be anyone else for either of us."  He swept away from the table without a backward glance, and Gemini turned her embarrassed attention back to her plate.  

Helen Pierce raised an eyebrow at the white haired man sitting close beside her on her left side.  "He has your temper, Joaquin."  

St. James smiled knowingly and whispered back, "And she lives in the land of denial, just like you.  I think they're a perfect match."  He nibbled her earlobe, enjoying her delighted shiver of pleasure before turning back to his own breakfast. 

Jarod sat at the head of the table, watching the interplay as he took a bite of oatmeal flavored with honey, apples and cinnamon that his mother had made for him.  It was hard to believe what he was seeing, hard to take in the fact that he was now where he had dreamed of being for most of his life, surrounded by people he barely knew, but whose souls were intimately connected with his own.  He felt so full there was barely room for food. 

But there was an emptiness that still nagged at him, a purposelessness that left him confused and frightened.  He had what he wanted... but what came next?  Obligation, boundless love and desire would keep him with Faith, but he needed something to do with his intelligence and energy, something rather like the stings he had worked before, but less dangerous, less time consuming so he would be able to be a proper father to his sons, and a husband to the woman he loved. 

There was plenty of work to be done in the research facility and he was certain he could help with a number of programs there.  But it wouldn't be enough, and he knew it. 

He would simply have to enjoy the time he had at hand, getting to know his family and cementing the broken bonds with them, before turning his attention to anything else.  And all that could take a long while to accomplish.  He was content, and pleased to see his father and mother making tentative attempts at picking up where they left off decades earlier.  It was a good thing that Joaquin still loved her after her abrupt departure from his life. 

It was a very good thing, one that he would watch develop with happy interest.  But the situation with Justin and Gemini was not as promising, and Jarod did not know how to help either of them come to terms with the difficult possibilities they faced.  Faith had told him he should stay out of their affairs, but he wasn't good at that sort of thing.  He just hoped he came up with the right idea before she left Harper's Rest.

 

* * *

 

 

Gemini transferred all the information stored on the DSAs to her personal computer during the last few days at Galleons Lap.  Justin had tried to talk her out of bringing the thing, since it would be a heavy addition to her pack during the hike, but she had insisted and decided it was a good time to get started on her project. 

She worked while Justin visited with his family, choosing to spend her free time in a hammock in Eden 4, enjoying the sounds of the bird calls and rushing water in the nearby stream.  It was a peaceful place, with weather she could count on remaining clear until dusk, and she enjoyed herself immensely.  Thoughts of settling down brushed against her imagination, but she swept them away immediately.  Such a life was not for her, not even in a place like Harper's Rest. 

The first order of business was to make an outline, just to make sure all the important tasks would get done.  After that, she began a detailed analysis of each step, laying out variations and possibilities, which would give her a clear course of action.  In all, she plotted it would take about a year to accomplish the whole plan, and the first thing to do would be to establish several new identities for herself.  Almost as an afterthought, she added a few extra IDs and retired for the day to Justin's quarters. 

The broken door stood ajar, and he was busy repairing the electronic controls when she strolled in. 

She left her laptop computer on the desk with his PC, and offered to lend him a hand. 

He suggested she use her amazing mental gifts to close it instead, and give him a hand with something else entirely.

 

* * *

 

 

Miss Parker lay in the tub with her eyes closed, enjoying the smoky blues tune Jay was playing in the next room.  For once she felt no pressing need to be anywhere, to get anything done, and it was a tremendous relief.  She spent her days and nights in the company of a wildly sexy man with unpredictable moods, and for the first time in a very long time, she was happy.  It felt strange, almost uncomfortable, and instinct made her snap and snarl when she really didn't want to, just because she was accustomed to responding to people that way. 

Jay didn't seem to mind at all.  He would smile at her barbed retorts and redirect her irritation, surprising her with a compliment or distracting her with a kiss, and then she would be all over him, regardless of where they were.  She noticed that he had a penchant for having sex in semi-public places, where someone was bound to see or hear them, and she decided she liked that just fine. 

She smiled to herself, remembering their most recent trip to Flagstaff. They had done it in a glass elevator in a new hotel, and he had sweet-talked the elderly couple who caught them into not reporting them to Security, convincing them that they were newlyweds with a handful of dried rice he had hidden away in his trouser pocket.  The old couple had smiled indulgently and walked away, arm in arm, without a word, and Jay picked the lock of an empty room for them to finish what he had started in the elevator car. 

He was incredible, both in bed and out of it, and she felt a strong sense of disquiet whenever she thought about leaving him.  She opened her eyes and glanced around the elegantly appointed bathroom with its stained glass window coloring the wall beside her, and wondered about what came next. For the first time in her life she was rootless, free of her past and disconnected from her future, and it was unsettling to realize that she suddenly had nowhere to go.  She had no reason to go back to The Centre, no reason to see her father again anytime soon -- what she had to say to him would best be done after a long, silent absence -- and no plans at all. 

She sat up in the tub and called Jay into the bathroom with her. 

He lowered the toilet lid and sat down on it, grinning hugely and dancing his fingers across the guitar strings so fast they almost set it on fire. 

"You have a request, _ma cherie?"_ he asked happily. 

She didn't crack a smile.  "I was just thinking," she said quietly.  "I need to start over again, find a new star to guide me." 

"I'd be happy to oblige," he shot back, and waggled his dark eyebrows at her, green eyes gleaming with lust. 

Miss Parker grinned briefly, but her serious mood took over again.  "I need a new _career_ , Jay.  I need to find out what makes me happy.  And I was thinking that, since the Foundation does this sort of thing for other people, maybe I might be welcome here, too." 

Jonathan sat the guitar down on the floor, took off his boots and climbed into the tub with her, clothes and all, disregarding her screams of protest and harmless slaps.  He settled his buttocks between her feet and propped his long legs on either side of her on the tub, facing her with a frown of concentration. 

"Well, to tell you the truth, doll," he began seriously, "I own this place.  My mom handles the business end of it, but the land is mine, passed down from my grandmother, who was a full-blooded Navajo.  So as long as you keep on my good side, you may stay as long as you like.  Particularly if you decide to be the mother of my children.  Which could be a pretty good career move, if you ask me, since I'm loaded." 

She couldn't help grinning, and splashed him with a handful of water.  "I'm not a very maternal person," she returned playfully.  "Or hadn't you noticed?" 

He shrugged.  "Okay, so we skip the ‘kids’ part and just pretend like we're trying to have a family.  I like the practicing part best anyway.  And there's plenty of kids here already that we can terrorize.  Or not, as necessary."  He cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at her.  "What do you say?  Wanna be my Significant Other?" 

She smirked back at him.  "What?  No proposal of marriage?  No vows of undying monogamous love?  Just what the hell kind of Prince Charming are you?" 

"The kind they warn you about when you're a little girl," he teased.  "The kind who rides up on a motorcycle and gets you in trouble as often as possible.  The kind your folks definitely wouldn't approve of." 

"Then you may just have a deal, Jay," she returned warmly.  "Keep it light and fun and I'll stick around.  Get all maudlin and mushy on me, and I'm gone.  Although I have no complaints about you so far." 

"And I aim to keep it that way, Rio," he promised.  She pulled his sodden shirt off over his head, and he reached for the soap to suds her down. "You're a hell of a woman, Miss Parker.  How 'bout we change your name to Helen Bedd? Because you are _most certainly_ that." 

"I'm not advertising, Jay," she countered, feeling under the water for his zipper.  "As long as you keep me entertained, I won't be looking for extracurricular activity."  She surged against him, sloshing a wave of soapy bath water over the edge of the tub, and silenced any further conversation with a kiss that almost made the water boil.

 

* * *

 

 

"I've never been much of an outdoorsman, aside from a little fishing here and there," Sydney admitted as he eyed the saddled horse looming before him. 

Grace smiled and handed him the reins.  "Riding a horse is rather like having sex, love," she promised.  "You have to find the rhythm with your partner and just let it happen." 

Still studying the animal and its leather seat, he didn't think when he replied.  "It's been rather a long time for me, I'm afraid." 

"Me, too," said Grace evenly.  "Not since my husband, more than three decades ago.  But one never forgets." 

Sydney turned to look at her, standing there beside him in the early morning sunshine, and noticed how she radiated kindness.  Something moved in him, and he thought to himself, _I could love her so easily._  And then felt ashamed for having such a selfish thought, so soon after Samantha's death.  But what he had shared with The Centre's psychic was tenuous at best, a relationship that lived in the shadows and would never have come to fruition. 

Yes, he could love her.  In fact, he already did, in some fashion.  He’d seen her as his savior from the moment he first met her, and carnal thoughts about her seemed somehow inappropriate.  He smiled and thanked her, took the reins in his left hand and laid his right on the horse's flank, patting the beast to let him know he was about to climb aboard. 

But Grace stepped up and reached around his neck, drawing him down for a quick kiss, not quite on the lips, but shyly off the mark at the corner of his mouth.  Hesitant confusion lit her eyes as she backed off and flashed a nervous smile at him, then walked around his horse to mount her own.  She swung up easily into the saddle and glanced over at him, waiting for him to do the same. 

"Western saddles are quite different from English," he commented from atop the chestnut gelding. 

"Yes, very," she agreed, and headed her horse toward the west, and the magnificent view of the canyon visible from the western wall.  They traveled in silence for a while, allowing Sydney to become more comfortable with his seat, the saddle, and the horse's gait. 

"I haven't been on a horse for forty years," he said idly, relaxing a little as his mount sauntered beside hers.  "I'd forgotten how lovely it can be."  He smiled into her eyes and added, "The world almost looks like a different place from up here." 

She nodded and smiled back.  "The world is actually a better place than you think it is, Sydney.  And certainly more forgiving." 

Grace turned away, her smile fading as she gazed at the lush landscape near the buildings of Galleons Lap that they passed on the bridle path.  "I saw some of your work with Jarod," she admitted.  "At first I was unable to grasp the horror of it.  Jarod's comments gave me some insight, and after asking some questions, I began to understand.  You were a very different man in the early years with him." 

Sydney stared straight ahead, aware of the bright morning sun beating down on his shoulders and bare head.  The scent of horses and leather overpowered the subtler smells of flowers and fertile earth, but a trace of Grace's perfume wafted to him on the breath of a breeze.  He remembered those years with the young Pretender too well, how driven he was to discover, how far he strayed from his moral compass in order to accomplish the majestic work of studying that unique human being that was Jarod.  And looking back on all the things he had done to the boy, he was ashamed.

There was no excuse for the emotional abuse he had put Jarod through, and though he did try to blunt its impact, the results were still painfully clear. 

"Yes.  But no so very different," he responded quietly. 

Grace fixed him with a knowing look.  "Of all The Centre refugees I’ve met thus far, Sydney," she began slowly, "you were most in need of saving from it." 

He couldn't help grinning at her obvious caring.  "You can't save the world, Grace."  That had been one of Jarod's most important lessons, but one he had steadfastly refused to learn. 

"Not by myself, no," she smiled.  "But if I help ten people, and they help ten people, and the trend continues, why, then, the whole world will be saved one day.  The journey that begins with a single step, is ultimately its own reward.  Don't you agree?" 

"What a philosopher you are," he chuckled.  "An unbridled romantic." 

"You don't know the half of it, Sydney," she grinned.  "I've been waiting my whole life for someone who can appreciate those qualities in me.  And here you are, riding up on a chestnut horse and sweeping me off my feet in quite the gentlemanly fashion." 

His eyes glowed as they met hers, but his smile faded away.  "I came here to find solace," he murmured.  "But discovered that the only place I can find that is back at The Centre.  I have to follow my conscience for once, rather than turning my back on it.  I have to return, Grace.  I have to help the other children now, take up Catherine Parker's work where she left it.  If I don't, there will be no peace for me anywhere.  And I'll never be able to forgive myself."  He sighed, watching her turn away, her expression sad but accepting.  "It's taken me a long time to understand Jarod's motivations for what he's been doing over the last year.  But now I know that forgiveness has to begin inside myself.  That's why he hasn't been able to forgive me for what I did to him.  Because he can't forgive himself, and we were partners in crime." 

"Victims of a greater evil," Grace corrected.  "Neither of you had a choice--" 

"There's _always_ a choice," he cut in.  "Just not one I was willing to make." 

She pulled on the reins and halted her horse's amble, waiting for him to do the same, and then riveted his eyes with hers.  "You chose _life_ ," she stated fiercely.  "And in so doing, you've given yourself and Jarod the opportunity to make amends, in some fashion, for the things you had to do to stay alive.  When someone is forced to commit evil against their will, then they are also victims of it.  Don't punish yourself for the past anymore, Sydney.  The past is gone.  Build yourself a future, and try to make up for what you've done by helping others, now that you have the chance.  Stay with me, and counsel the needy here.  We have quite a lot who come here with ruined lives and fractured hearts, and they need a good doctor to help them heal." 

Her passion was not wasted, and Sydney felt it to his bones.  He reached across the little space between their mounts and caught the back of her neck, pulling her close enough to kiss her.  It was brief and clumsy, but white hot and soul-deep, and as they parted both of them were breathing hard, trembling, trying to gather their scattered wits back together again.   

"Excellent speech, Grace," he breathed.  "But I know what I have to do.  I have to pay the piper for the dance." 

Tears gathered in her eyes, but she blinked them away.  "Will you come back?" 

He glanced down at the leather reins woven around his fingers, and sighed heavily.  "Probably not. I’m not agile enough to get out alive." 

It was a long time before she spoke again.  "When will you leave?" 

Sydney shrugged.  "In a few days, I think.  Any longer than that without reporting in, and they'll think I've deserted." 

Grace nodded.  "Then let's make the most of the time you have left.  Will you make love to me before you go?" 

His eyes met hers, and a shy, adoring smile played at one corner of his mouth.   

"I would have taken longer and worked up to it if you’d intended to stay," she admitted.  "But I'm not one to let opportunity slip through my fingers and live in the shadow of regret." 

He laughed then, with abandon that he had not felt in many, many years.  "You are priceless, Grace St. James.  And my answer is... yes.  Though I can't promise I'll be worth the wait.  I'm rather sadly out of practice." 

"Then we'll be retro-virgins together, darling," she teased.  A trembling smile washed across her mouth, and they continued down the bridle path toward the canyon, dancing hesitantly closer, both unsure of the steps but determined to finish the song together.

 

* * *

 

 

"I have to go," Gemini said again, pushing Justin's hands away from her waist as he sought to pull her back into bed.  "I've got things to do." 

"Such as?" he demanded crossly, giving up and pushing to his feet. 

"Dealing with The Centre," she stated with a sigh.  "And no, you can't come and help.  You'd be caught and sent back there, and if they took you again, I wouldn't be able to help you get out a second time." 

He paled and stared hard at her.  "Jesus, _you_ aren't going back there, are you?" 

"No, love.  Not for a long time.  Not till they're broken." 

"You can't do it by yourself, Gemini.  They're too powerful, and you don't know--" 

"I know everything I need to know," she shot back.  "I've got a plan all worked out, and am about to implement it shortly.  First stop is Switzerland, and then I'll be traveling for about a month.  I'll see you when I'm done, Justin.  If you want."

"Damn it, Gemini!  I'll go crazy worrying about you while you're gone, wondering if they've gotten to you, if you're safe.  Please.  Let me come with you.  I'll stay out of your way, I promise." 

"That's one you can't keep, Justin, and you know it."  She finished dressing and packed up her things in preparation for her trip back to civilization, aware of how distracted and agitated he was becoming.  "Just let me go.  Close your eyes, and count to a hundred, and when you open your eyes again, it'll be done.  Painless and quick." 

"Like hell," he growled.  In moments he was dressed and said his farewells to his family over the intercom.  When she shouldered her pack and headed for the elevator he was on her heels, and stayed with her all the way up to the top, through the cabin entrance and out onto the trail again.  When they stopped overnight at the traveler's lean-to, he did not sleep, afraid she would desert him if he did.  He took a nap in the car as she drove, waking every time she stopped or slowed down.  And when she changed out of her hiking gear after their arrival in the city, she stowed the wilderness provisions in a locker at the airport and bought a ticket for Geneva.  He was next in line with credit card in hand.   

He went with her to an international bank and watched her set up several private accounts, never questioning her intentions or showing the slightest bit of curiosity.  Afterward, she bought a map and a set of darts and chose a handful of destinations all over the world, then electronically ordered tickets for each of the cities under different names. 

But Justin said nothing when she purchased the tickets in pairs, one for a man and one for a woman.

 Upon arrival in each city she would check them into a hotel, plug in her modem and set to work.  Every day she would hit at least three of the names on her list, hunting down every financial resource and removing it, sending the cash to one of the numbered accounts in Switzerland or making a sizable anonymous donation to Greenpeace or Amnesty International or the International Children's Fund.  Day by day she stripped Centre officers of their money, their investments, their assets, covering her tracks so completely that none of them would ever be able to find where their funds had gone. 

Last of all, she began to track down the financial secrets of The Centre itself, but barricades had been built to protect them and she knew it would take quite a bit of time and relentless pursuit before she would be able to pull the rug completely out from under the corporate identity.  And that led to the next part of the equation, where Justin's presence would definitely be harmful to her mission. 

Rather than part company after another argument, she drugged his food and left him sleeping in an Oslo hotel room with a kiss of regret on his lips.

 

* * *

 

 

Sydney sat at his desk, typing rhythmically on his keyboard, reporting on the current Pretender case he had been assigned.  The girl was not as gifted as Jarod had been, but she was showing promise and blossoming under his tutelage.  In another week he hoped to have her out of The Centre and on her way to the Foundation, where Grace would be trying to find her family and reunite them again. 

He had helped four children out already, and so far there had not been a ripple of suspicion directed at him.  After the first rescue that he had accomplished on his own, he managed to discover another sympathetic soul, and after that the entire Underground put itself at his disposal.  He was moving them out too fast, they told him, and sooner or later, someone would connect the disappearances to him.  Sydney was prepared for that.  It was inevitable. 

And when Raines came into his office with a pair of burly sweepers at his side, he knew that somehow, he had been identified as the thief of Centre property, and offered up as a sacrifice. 

"Come with me," Raines growled. 

Sydney saved the file he had been working on, and shut down his computer.  He rose from his chair, adjusted the drape of his jacket, smoothed back his hair with one hand, and followed his nemesis out with his head held high.  One of the sweepers reached for his arm, and he dodged neatly. 

"That isn't necessary," he assured the big man.  "I know where I'm going."

 He walked down the corridor smiling, amazed at the lightness in his heart.  He had not believed such a thing possible, but the burden he had carried on his soul for so long was fading away at last, leaving wonderful peace in its wake.  He was happy, and as he stood in the back of the elevator behind Raines and the sweepers, he began to hum a pleasant tune, punctuated with bubbling laughter that he could not keep inside.

  _He was free at last._

He only wished he could tell Jarod how it felt. 

 

* * *

 

 

Miss Morgan Parker picked up the telephone in her room on the first ring. 

"Hello," she said mildly into the mouthpiece.  Sometime during the past few months' stay at the Foundation she had ceased snapping her irritated "What?" into the phone whenever it rang. 

"Darling, is that you?" 

She recognized her father's voice instantly, and was suddenly shaken.  "Yes, Daddy.  I'm sorry I haven't called, but I've been... busy."  She stole a glance at the bed, and the sleeping man tangled up in her sheets. 

"Any luck finding those DSAs?" 

"No, Daddy.  But I know they're here somewhere.  This is a big place.  Lots of ground to cover."  She scratched at the nicotine patch on her upper arm and inadvertently peeled part of it off.  She removed it completely and tossed it in the nearest trash can. 

"Well, something more important has come up.  You've got to get back here now." 

She frowned.  "What's the matter, Daddy?  You sound upset." 

"Use the corporate card to buy your ticket home," Mr. Parker ordered.  "Your personal card isn't good anymore." 

That sent a shiver of fear through her.  If her credit had been tampered with, then it was only the tip of the iceberg.  "Tell me, Daddy.  What is it?  What did Jarod do this time?" 

"I can't confirm that it's Jarod, darling," he told her, "but it has the earmarks of something he'd pull.  He's been stealing money from all The Centre officers.  How he found out who they are, I'll never know, but he has and he's stealing every penny we ever made.  Even houses are being repossessed by financial organizations.  I'm living in my office right now, and I don't like it one bit.  I need you here to help us figure out how to get our lives back." 

She wanted to tell him then what she knew, but didn't want the blow dealt over the phone.  She wanted to see his face when she told him.  "I'll be there as soon as I can, Daddy, but meet me at that diner in Blue Cove, not at The Centre.  We have things to discuss.  And bring Sydney." 

He cleared his throat on the line.  "I'm afraid that won't be possible." 

"And why not?  I know he went back to work a month ago.  He sent me an e-mail just yesterday to ask me if Jarod had returned to the Foundation yet." 

"We'll talk about it when I see you.  Say, Wednesday afternoon, 2:00 pm?" 

"Of course, Daddy.  I'll see you there."  She hung up the phone and went immediately to her computer.  Without checking the incoming posts, she sent a message to Sydney's Centre account, and waited.  Half an hour later she checked her mail again, and found that the message had bounced back.  His electronic account had been closed.  She scanned her other incoming posts and found one from him sent on the previous day.  She opened it immediately and began to read. 

 _Dear Miss Parker,_  
I wanted to tell you many things, but none of them seemed quite appropriate while we worked together.  I watched you grow up into a beautiful, gifted young woman.  There is so much out there for you, dear Morgan, if only you allow yourself to see it.  Your young man seems to be good for you, and I hope you discover with him what I could never teach you, though I tried.  When you look into the mirror, learn to see your mother's spirit, and you will be whole again.   
  
All these years I loved you like a daughter.  Please remember me fondly.  

_Fare well.  Give my love to Jacob and Grace._

_Sydney Abelard_

"Oh, my God," she breathed, and sat down bonelessly in the chair at her desk.  Sydney would not have sent her such a personal note unless he would not be able to tell her those things face to face.  He had crossed the line, and with her father's unsaid discomfort about the subject, she thought he was probably gone. 

"What is it, Rio?" asked Jay sleepily from the bed.  He stretched and opened his eyes, but once her stricken look registered he was out of the covers and kneeling before her, his arms thrown around her for comfort.  "What is it, baby?  What's happened?" 

"Sydney's dead," she whispered brokenly.  "They killed him." 

Disbelief morphed into acceptance, and he hugged her harder.  "We'll have to tell Pooh," he observed.   

She nodded.  "I'll do it.  And Jacob, too." 

"He's in a coma, babe." 

"He should still be told," she sniffed.  "If he doesn't already know."  She pushed uncertainly to her feet, Jay rising with her and holding her tightly.  She wrapped her arms around his naked back, needing the warmth of his body, the strength of his muscles to help support her as the full weight of her grief sank in and she began to weep in earnest.  "He was more like a father to me than my own.  And I never once told him I loved him, Jay.  Not once." 

Jonathan stroked her hair and waited for her tears to subside.  "I think he knew, darlin'."  His eyes scanned the message on her computer screen before the screensaver blocked it out.  "He knew." 

She nodded, unable to make an audible reply, and buried her face against his neck.

 

* * *

 

 

Gemini took extensive precautions before her meeting with Mr. John Hancock. She didn't know his real name, and didn't care. But she had an address, a dossier of materials, and documents signed by a handful of other people she had already visited that might help sway him in the direction she wanted to take him. She also knew that she might never leave the unassuming Washington, DC computer store that served as a front for one of the most covert branches of the government. Not alive, anyway. 

Beneath her dyed blonde roots, beneath the latex mask and colored contact lenses, Gemini Rising was afraid. But she believed in what she was doing, and faced her potential enemy with unflappable calm. A floor salesman took her to the manager's office, and she sat down in the padded chair with the grace of a dancer, making sure with a side glance that Mr. Hancock was studying her appreciatively. 

He was an older man, somewhere in his seventies, but with a robust constitution and a bright gleam in his brown eyes. The decorations in his office were sparse and modern, understated, typical of the type of establishment it appeared to be. There was a single photograph facing him, of a young blonde woman dressed in a Yale sweatshirt, turned just enough that a casual viewer could see a little of it, but not much. 

Gemini made sure she got a good view of it before she sat down. 

"What can Electronic Solutions do for you today, ma'am?" he asked cordially. 

She knew how the game worked. One never asked or demanded anything outright, but communicated through euphemisms and innuendo. One hinted at what they wanted until the foundation for bargaining was laid, and once the deal was agreed upon, specific details could be given. 

"I have a problem. I need a solution," she answered calmly. "Though I believe I already know what that solution is." 

"I see." He began to study her then in earnest. That she wasn't there to buy a computer was obvious by her demeanor. "And how can I help you accomplish that goal, Ms....?" 

"Tubman.  Harriet Tubman." 

He smiled then, slyly, pleased by how she played. 

"I've been thinking of getting rid of an old network," she said cautiously. "But I don't want to replace it with anything new. I'm changing businesses, and just want to shut it down, but it won't die off by itself. It has to be unplugged."

 His smile faded, and a dangerous gleam sparkled in his eyes as he raised one snowy white eyebrow in question. "Sometimes that can be a troublesome problem," he mused. "When you think you've gotten the whole thing, another dandelion springs up in the yard. They can be difficult to stamp out completely." 

She nodded. "Yes, I know. That's why I've come to you and Electronic Solutions. I'm going to pull the plug soon, and I want you to make sure no one comes along after me and reconnects the system." 

"It could be a costly endeavor," Hancock returned. 

Gemini shrugged. "Cost is no object," she noted. Glancing at the photo on the desk, she went on, "Sometimes we get engaged in businesses we don't want our families knowing about. In the end, peace of mind is vastly more important than cash flow. Don't you agree?" 

In the ensuing silence the strength in the old man's face seemed to crumble a little, relaxing into regretful acceptance. His gaze fixed on the photograph, which he touched lovingly, adjusting the angle a little more toward himself, as if hiding the smiling face from his guest. He cleared his throat, and turned to face the visitor again with a firm set to his mouth. 

"You're wise for one so young," he observed. "And from the conviction I see in your eyes, I can presume that it comes from experience. May I have the name of the network, please? So I might consider your proposal in earnest."

 She handed him a business card with a logo printed in green and yellow, showing a simplified human figure lying on its belly as if in flight, arms extended above and forward, catching a mantle of stars. There was a name and telephone number in black below it, but no address other than a city and state. She watched the old man's eyebrows raise slightly, and his expression included a glimmer of fear. 

"What is it, exactly, that you want me to do for you, Ms. Tubman?"  

She rose and laid the dossier on the desk in front of him, then returned to her seat.

"Nothing," she replied gently. "As you can see, my agents and I are already doing everything that needs to be done. All you have to do is withhold your support. No secrets will be revealed, no covers blown. No one will be in any danger but the decision makers in the network. Their pasts will come back to haunt them, but not at the expense of the ones who earned their fortunes for them." 

"It sounds damned simple," Hancock said with a note of something akin to pleasure in his voice. 

"One less burden on your conscience," she teased solemnly. "May I count on your cooperation?" 

John Hancock opened the folder and scanned the documents quickly, impressed with the woman's thoroughness. He was close to acceptance, ready to be relieved of the millstone around his neck, but uncertain of the repercussions against his family. He didn't know what the next part of her plan would be, but with the money gone, the power would soon follow. 

Then he turned the last sheet of documents and found a stack of photographs. One by one he studied them, looking through the stack at the faces staring bleakly back at him; faces of children, teenagers, young adults, the middle aged, the elderly. Faces of people without hope, whose lives had been stolen for use by the Centre for experimentation that left them crippled, deformed, mutilated, broken in body, mind and spirit. The last photograph was that of a young woman sitting alone in a dank cell, curled up on her bunk and hugging herself. She had fair hair and a pretty face, and bore an eerie resemblance to the girl in the photograph on his desk. 

His hands started to tremble, and he reached for the phone, glancing guiltily at the framed picture. 

"She isn't your granddaughter, Mr. Hancock," Gemini told him. "But she might have been. Do you know what they did to her?" 

He shook his head and closed the folder and his eyes. He didn't want to know.

 "Remember World War II? Auschwitz? Josef Mengele? He was obsessed with genetic perfection. He wanted to be able to alter the genetic structure to create a breed of superior beings. He wanted them to be blondes with blue eyes, great strength and intelligence. He did experiments on captured subjects to try to change brown eyes to blue, and put those people through inconceivable torture to further his research." 

The man covered his face with his hands and leaned his elbows on the desk.

 "The woman in the photograph had brown eyes, Mr. Hancock. Like your granddaughter. Like you." 

He dropped his hands to the desk and glared at her. "That sort of research went out with Hitler," he snapped. "People don't do that kind of thing anymore."

"The Centre did," she shot back calmly, "because people like you gave The Tower carte blanche. 'Do your research and give us the answers, just don't tell us how you got the information.' Hasn't that been your policy, sir?"

 "I can't believe--"

 "Then take a walk down the Centre's corridors for yourself," she challenged. "You know where it is. You've been there, delivering contracts and picking up solutions. That's your business. Just don't ask them about their methods if you don't want to know the answers." 

"They wouldn't do such things!" he insisted. "It's inhuman."

 "Look at the roster of scientists, then," she prodded. "Just after the last photo. See if you recognize any of the names."

 He stared at her, refusing to touch the folder.

She started to recite them, one by one, along with their unofficial titles. "Dr. Nicholas Krieg, Shadow of Dachau. Dr. Alf Neuren, Auschwitz. Dr. Hans Lieben. Dr. Trang Ngyuen, from Viet Nam. All of these men are supposed to be dead, Mr. Hancock. Only The Tower decided their knowledge was so valuable that they had to be rescued and put to work here. The Centre has been in business for a very long time, you know."

 "Those horrors were supposed to have stopped when the Holocaust ended," the old man whispered, his hands pressing on the folder as if to force its secrets to stay buried inside. But he couldn't keep the lid on Pandora's Box. The truth had gotten out at last. "I think part of me knew, way down inside, that things weren't right there. But I didn't want to know. I just didn't."

 "It's safer that way, yes," she crooned soothingly. "But now it's time for the Holocaust to become just a bad memory, rather than an ongoing reality. Don't you agree, sir?"

 He nodded in defeat, his head hanging down in shame. He couldn't meet her eyes, nor could he put that folder away. He just sat there, old and tired, drowning in regret.

 The rustle of paper drew his attention, made him open his eyes as a contract was placed before him. He glanced first at the signatures adorning the bottom of it, and saw immediately that this young woman had certainly done her homework. The space for his signature was the last one of several, every one belonging to the head of various branches of international government agencies, many of which did not officially exist. She had ferreted out all of the supporters of The Centre, and gained from each of them an agreement to leave the institution defenseless and alone. Contracts and payments would cease immediately, and requests for assistance would be summarily rejected.

 He read the contract thoroughly, stole one quick glance at his granddaughter's photograph, and signed.

 "Thank you, Mr. Hancock," Gemini purred. "You'll sleep easier with one less need for absolution, I promise."

 She picked up the contract, waving it slightly in the air as she waited for the ink to dry, and when she had it safely tucked inside her jacket pocket, she turned to go.

 "You forgot your dossier," he informed her.

Pausing at the door, she hardly turned her head at all to reply over her shoulder. "No, I didn't. Those are your souvenirs. Just the ones I could put names to. There are thousands more I haven't identified yet. Think about that next time you hear about someone disappearing. Especially a child."

After she left, the old man pulled out the photograph of the young woman and turned it over. Printed in the bottom corner was a name, date of abduction, and date of death. The Centre had kept her for eight years trying to change the color of her eyes before they finally killed her. 

He put his head down on the desk and wept.

 

* * *

 

 

Morgan Parker strode into the Diner Hour restaurant at five minutes to two o'clock, expecting to see her father already seated at a table. She scanned the room for him, but did not see him anywhere, and requested a booth in the back from the hostess. She ordered an iced tea while she waited, and set up the DSA reader in her briefcase, closing the lid when she had finished.

 For half an hour she waited, and decided to order lunch anyway. The food was decent there, though none of the dishes could be considered more than standard fare. Her crab salad arrived quickly, and she had just taken the first bite when she heard the doorbell jingle to announce another customer's arrival. The diner was all but deserted at that late hour, and she glanced up to see her father walk in, checking behind him nervously as if someone might be following him. 

He slid quickly into the booth and leaned forward conspiratorially.

"Did you have any problems with your corporate account?" he breathed without bothering to offer her a polite greeting. He clutched at her left wrist as it lay on the table, his fingers closing tightly around her arm. 

The note of panic in his voice alarmed her. "What's the matter, Daddy?" she demanded quietly. "I checked my bank accounts, and all of them show zero balances. All my credit cards have been revoked, and the corporate card was held at the airport. I had to borrow money for the plane ticket here. What the hell is going on?" 

"Jarod!" he seethed. "He's robbed us all! I don't know how he did it, exactly, how he got the information to track down all our financial records, but over the last six months, every Centre officer has gone abruptly bankrupt, and the Centre accounts are disappearing as well. We're foundering here. Employees are deserting in droves when their paychecks bounce, and soon we won't have enough people left to provide adequate security for our test subjects. By God, Morgan, Jarod has to be stopped!" 

She sat still for a moment, studying the man who had been her idol for most of her life. He was desperate and afraid, qualities she thought wholly alien to him, so much so that she hardly recognized him as her father. A core of anger still gleamed in the depths of his sapphire eyes, and it stoked the fire in her own soul, steeling her against him. 

"I really don't care about Jarod right now," she announced huskily, laying down her fork and withdrawing her wrist out of his grasp. "I came here for another reason." 

The shock on Mr. Parker's face was almost as audible as a slap. "What do you mean, you don't care? If we catch him, we can end this nonsense and get things back to normal. I don't particularly look forward to being homeless, and unless that young man is brought back to us in chains, that's a definite possibility. Several of our stateside houses have already been claimed for back taxes that we can't prove were paid, and I have no way of getting to our European villas. I can't buy an airline ticket. Hell, I can't even buy lunch!" 

Miss Parker pushed the crab salad toward her father across the table. "You eat it," she ground out. "I've lost my appetite." 

The elder man picked up her fork and stabbed angrily at a piece of succulent carmine and white crabmeat and chewed on it with a vengeance. "Well, if you haven't come to talk about Jarod or the Centre's difficulties, what did bring you here?"

 "Mother," she answered brusquely. "And Sydney."

 Mr. Parker stopped chewing and glanced up at her guiltily. "They're both beyond your concern, child," he warned gruffly. "Learn to let go and get on with your life."

"Like you did?" she accused. With a flick of her wrist she opened the lid on her silver Halliburton and punched in her private code. The DSA began to play, and her father reached to turn it off before any of the diner's meager employees noticed the unusual machine or the tiny movie playing on its screen. She grabbed his hand before it reached its mark, and held on with a grip of cold iron. 

"Turn that damn thing off!" he ordered her in a harsh whisper.

 She said nothing, glaring at him as the scene played out, watching his eyes for a reaction. His attention turned slowly from her to the screen, and he listened to his own damning words. Realization was written on his face, and he met her eyes when the disc ceased spinning. 

"So now you know," he said softly, sighing. "I gave her to the dogs. But I couldn't have saved her. Surely you know that."

 "No, Daddy," she said lightly, an undercurrent of trembling rage coloring her words. "Explain it to me." 

"She was stealing the children--"

"That you stole from their families."

"It wasn't like that, not in the beginning--" 

But it happened, and the more time passed, the more children you stole. How many, Daddy? Hundreds? What happened to all of them? Are they still at the Centre? Did you let them go home when you were done with them? Or are they dead, like Dara? Unable to function as normal human beings, like Angleo? Or permanently scarred by what you did to them, like Jarod? He's a fucking machine, Daddy, because of what you and Mr. Raines and Sydney did to him. And now that he's loose on the world, you're all getting a little payback for the crimes you committed. How does it feel to be the one in the trap now? How does it feel to be standing in that elevator with a gun in your face and no one to help you?" 

"Your mother committed--" 

He cut himself off abruptly, remembering what he had witnessed on the DSA. Four shots slamming into his beautiful wife's body, while a smiling Harmon Winterbourne looked on. Lies were no longer possible, and his face suddenly turned an ashen gray. He laid the fork down and pushed the plate back to the center of the table. 

"I really did kill her, didn't I?" he whispered, propping his head in his hands wearily. His shoulders slumped in utter defeat. "I killed Catherine."

 Silence thickened the air between them for several minutes. When he could bear to raise his eyes to hers again, he saw that she was sitting ramrod straight, her eyes cool and clear, just waiting for the proper moment to finish him off. 

"Did you ever really love me, Daddy?" she asked coldly. "You never said so. And every time I licked your boots for some crumb of affection, you turned away. Always just a bit too busy for your little girl, right? Something more important to attend to." She leaned slightly toward him over the table. "I finally learned I don't need your precious approval to be worth something. And I like how it feels to be appreciated for who I am." 

"Of course I love you, Morgan!" he blustered. "Don't be foolish." 

"Needing to be loved isn't foolish, Daddy," she shot back hotly. "It's a basic requirement of humankind. Or had you forgotten?" 

He opened his mouth to frame a biting retort, but she cut him off.

"Save it for someone who cares, Parker," she snapped. "You let my mother die without lifting a finger, and then you turned your back on me. Well I don't need you anymore, and I don't give a damn whether you ever get Jarod back. I'm through with the Centre and all its secrets and horror stories! I quit. And you can tell Mr. Raines and the Tower that if I _ever_ see anything resembling a hit man, sweeper or cleaner crossing my path, Jarod's sadistic games will be little more than an annoyance to every one of you." She stood up and fished a ten dollar bill out of her purse, flinging it down on the table. "And remember to tell them that I learned from the best." 

She stomped toward the door, head held high, and did not look back. 

Mr. Parker glanced sidelong at the open DSA case and turned his attention back to the warming salad in front of him. He stared at it unseeing for a long time, but eventually the smell of food tantalized his empty stomach and he picked up the fork for another bite. Closing the case and locking it, he pulled the Halliburton onto the seat beside him and finished the meal, wondering how much change he would have left from the ten spot, and how far it would get him.

 

* * *

 

 

The next part of the plan would require far more legwork than she could put out alone, so Gemini headed for the arid Southwest to ask for assistance from an old friend. Grace was willing but uncertain of the potential success rate, and concerned that her own people might be endangered by the illegalities involved. So Gemini opened up her laptop and sent out a handful of electronic pleas, all of which were answered within a week. A lot of people owed her staggering personal debts, and she was ready to collect from every one of them.

 Justin Pierce and his family were the first to arrive.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," Gemini told him shyly. She watched the family's reunion with Grace St. James, envious of the warm embraces the relatives exchanged, but unwilling to participate, to allow any of them to get close enough to sweep her up in one. 

"Yes, you were," Justin argued. "You knew I'd follow you anywhere, Gemini. I tried before, but you wouldn't let me." 

"I couldn't risk your being seen," she explained with a shrug. "But now it doesn't matter. No one will be looking for you where I'll be sending you, and if the Centre does catch you again, they won't have you for long." 

"You sound pretty sure of yourself." 

She met his eyes then, and her gaze was steady and certain. "I am." 

An invisible wall had sprung up between them, and he couldn't seem to find his way around it. His hands remained thrust in the pockets of his trousers as they stood apart from the rest of the group, and he stumbled over what he wanted to say. "I don't want... Gemini, I--" 

"It's all right, Justin," she promised, cutting off his attempt to regain their former intimacy. "What we have to do now is make sure that debts are paid in full. Will you do whatever it takes to help?" 

He stared at her in silence for a moment, and then nodded. "Whatever it takes." 

"Then let's get started with our meeting," she urged, leading the way into the library where his family had been rejoined. She took a small device from her jacket pocket and swept the room for bugs, then stood at attention before the fireplace as she waited for everyone to take up their positions and direct their attention toward her. 

Once done, she greeted them politely and launched into her proposal. At first there was only silent speculation, and then the questions came. She answered them quickly, easily, with well considered answers that showed she had planned for virtually every detail in advance. All she needed was volunteers enough to cover the territory and accomplish the multitude of tasks necessary to carry out the final stage of dismantling the Centre's power structure. She had case files already prepared and potential arrangements made for all but a handful of Tower officers, but luck was with her and Jarod supplied the ideal plan for Mr. Raines.

Though the crimes committed by the Tower could never be revealed to the general public, alternate solutions were available. And if they moved quickly enough, the foundations of the Centre would shortly be quaking enough to bring the house down. Each of them took their assignments and went off to study and plot exactly how they would go about executing the plan, and within a week everyone was off in a different direction to begin their part of the scheme. The steps took months to accomplish, but by summer the pieces began to fall quickly into place. 

_**June** _

A Delaware newspaper broke the story of a massive money laundering operation based at an undisclosed location in the state. Three men and two women, formerly respected citizens in their community and well known in Washington social circles, were arrested and charged in the plot. Connections to a Colombian drug ring were alleged, and hints of Mafia alignments were disclosed to a local reporter. All of the suspects had been indicted by the Grand Jury, and trial was slated to begin in three months. 

_**July** _

Kidnapping and child endangerment charges were leveled against a prominent Washington attorney early in the month. He was alleged to have taken the twin sons of a former Tennessee physics professor, with the intent of selling the infant boys to a child pornography ring. Pornographic magazines were reported to have been found in the lawyer's home, as well as payments to his personal accounts from other ring members arrested in the sting operation. A mountain of proof, including photographs of the lawyer with several young children, had been confiscated for evidence. The twin boys were returned unharmed to their mother, who had gone into hiding until the trial for the safety of herself and her children. 

_**August** _

Following the deaths of several North Texas teens from heroin overdoses, arrests were made this month and charges filed against the alleged dealers of the deadly drug. Some of the suspected traffickers escaped in the raid, but a prominent Dallas newspaper managed to acquire photographs of the fugitives, and printed a plea for help in locating the alleged criminals, offer a substantial reward for information contributing to the arrest and conviction of the men and women allegedly involved.

_**September** _

After more than a year of dead ends and lost trails, the FBI has made an arrest in the Compass Murders case. Mr. William Raines of Boston, Massachusetts, has been arraigned for trial based on evidence collected during the on-going investigation. The final break in the case came from the coroner's office, when Dr. Jennifer Tansey identified a fingerprint found on three of the five compasses as that of Mr. Raines. This evidence had been previously overlooked, due to police error. Trial is slated to begin on February 1 in Detroit, scene of the last murder, with newly hired Assistant District Attorney Catherine Jameson leading the prosecution.

All the pieces were in place at last. Appropriate crimes had been manufactured to replace the actual ones, along with more than sufficient evidence for a conviction from even the most skeptical jury. The accused parties could never be tried for their real crimes at the Centre, but the frames had been carefully constructed to come as close as possible. It was as close to true justice as the team could come. 

As Jarod and Faith finished their part of the Washington, D.C. play, convictions in hand, they moved to an apartment in Detroit. By the time the trial was ready to go to court, newly appointed judge Jarod Pierce was sitting quietly on the bench, watching the fiery Catherine Jameson lead the prosecution's case. When the jury went out to deliberate, they returned a verdict of guilty in two days, after viewing the convincing evidence pointing directly at the surly, ghostly William Raines. Even with his physical handicap, the fact that his victims were drugged into submission made his terrible crimes seem all the more frightening, and a sentence of five life terms in tandem were meted out as his punishment. 

Raines glared at his panel of accusers, for all of them were there by the end of the trial: Joaquin St. James and his new bride Helen, along with their sons Justin and Jarod Pierce, Faith Wise, and Raines' former employee, Dr. Jennifer Tansey. The evidence she provided had been the most damning, and it was her expert, unshakable testimony that had led the jury to their verdict of guilty. 

Raines said his farewell to Dr. Jennifer Tansey with a cold smile and a nod of acknowledgment for her brilliant performance. 

As Raines was hustled off to prison in shackles, the group began a quiet celebration, but two of the victors left early. Gemini had some packing to do, she told Justin, but he was interested in resuming what they had started months before. During the trial they had kept their distance, wanting to make sure that none of the testimony would be tainted with conflicting personal relationships, but now that it was over they could have their lives back and he was ready to follow her anywhere. 

"You can't go where I'm headed," she told him. "I don't want you to go with me." 

Justin stared at her over the bed where her suitcase lay open, ready to receive the meager possessions she planned to take with her. "Why?" he demanded quietly, hurt and anger in his eyes. "I would do anything for you, Gemini. You know that. Why do you keep holding me at arm's length? Why won't you let me in?" 

She sighed wearily, tired of fighting him back. "Because I can't," she returned. "Just let me go, Justin. Let it be. It's over." 

He shook his head. "My father waited more than thirty years for my mother. If that's what you want, I'll do the same. But I won't give up on us, not ever. I can't. And I think you know that. I think it's the same with you, only you won't admit it for some reason." 

"Don't wait," she cautioned him flatly, unable to meet his eyes. "I won't be coming back. Not this time." 

Justin stood aside and let her go, but his feelings continued to smolder as he followed her to the airport. He knew her well enough to see that she was hiding something from him, something she couldn't put into words, and he meant to find out what that was. He bought a ticket on the same plane she flew out on, riding coach instead of first class so she wouldn't see him. The airplane landed in France and she hired a car in Paris for the trip south. Keeping just enough distance between them that she wouldn't notice that he was on her tail, he followed the tracking device he had attached to her suitcase back to the seaside city of Getaria, its white stucco buildings standing out in stark contrast to the green hills and sparkling blue ocean. He had been careful to watch for other hunters, fearful of Raines' retribution, but no one was following him.  

She did not go to her villa this time, turning farther inland toward another destination, an old winery way out in the hills. He put extra distance between them until her car stopped at a big house, and he crept up on the scene on foot, carefully searching for surveillance devices as he approached. He managed to avoid all of them that he could see, but as he arrived at the door it swung open to admit him before he even raised his hand to knock. 

Gemini stood facing him, a storm of emotions battling just beneath the surface, barely contained behind a shifting mask of neutrality. 

"Why are you here?" she demanded. 

"Because you are," he answered slowly. "Gemini, don't you understand? I have to be with you. I don't have a choice. You're part of me. Leave me behind and I'll just go where I know you've been and wait for you. Here, Getaria, that dingy little apartment in Flagstaff Jarod told me about. I don't care where you choose to live, or who you live with, as long as I'm there, too." 

"You won't share me, Justin," she argued flatly. "I know you." 

His jaw clenched angrily. "So that's it. That's your hang-up. You want to keep your freedom." He thought about it for a minute, realizing that he would, indeed, be inclined to wreak a little personal mayhem on any man he found in her bed. And he wasn't sure that he could change that jealous streak. He wanted her all to himself, and he'd just have to convince her that she wanted him the same way. "You're right. I won't share you with other men. I didn't think you wanted anyone but me. How vain of me to believe I was irresistible to you, or anyone else." 

He had been for years. It was part of his personal charm, seducing beautiful, boring women, making them want him to the exclusion of all else, and then dropping them like hot rocks when they wore out their welcome. Knowing that Gemini was immune to his seduction hurt deeply, but he wasn't willing to give up. Not yet. 

"Are you sure you want me to leave you alone, Gemini?" he asked around the lump forming in his throat.

 She nodded. "Good-bye, Justin." 

He turned on his heel and walked back the way he had come, climbed in his car, and reached for the key. His heart shattering was the only sound he heard, tears of anguish and regret streaming down his face as he leaned his body against the steering wheel. He couldn't believe he had been shut out so firmly, so heartlessly. There had to be more behind Gemini's coldness than she was telling him. 

He went back to the house, this time being painfully careful to search for surveillance devices, motion sensors and perimeter markers. He felt wrung out, empty and ashamed of spying on Gemini, but he had to know who the lover was that had beaten him in the contest for her affection. The answer shocked and surprised him, but made every aspect of her behavior suddenly understandable. And he knew at last what the secret of winning her heart completely would be.

 

* * *

 

 

Ixidro Pena sniffed the cork of an old wine bottle, enjoying the fragrance of the fruity _txakolina_ , a homemade Basque wine that most families produced in their cellars for the year's enjoyment. The Pena family's crop of grapes was more bountiful than usual, thanks to his daughter's advice, and a delivery of additional wine bottles had just arrived from Getaria to hold the latest vintage. Pena pointed to the corner where he wanted the first case stored, and the Basque laborers began to settle crates of glass in the appropriate corner.

Pena held out the cork to the American man who had identified himself as a wine merchant, accompanying the delivery men to his modest little winery.

"It was a very good year," Pena said slowly, working hard to produce the proper accent, aware how un-Basque his English sounded. 

Justin Pierce accepted the cork and sniffed appreciatively, his mouth salivating at the wonderful smell. He closed his eyes and imagined the flavor of the sweet wine in his mouth, then handed back the cork with a sigh of regret. "It was, indeed, _lagundi,_ " he responded warmly.  

"Come upstairs and share a glass with me," Pena offered hospitably. "We can talk about prices and quantities later." 

Justin held up a hand with a shyly uncomfortable smile flexing his dimples. "Sorry, but I'll have to pass, Mr. Pena. I'm an alcoholic. All I do is buy the stuff." 

Ixidro laughed, his green eyes dancing merrily at the irony. "What a joke that is, eh?" He clapped the tall young man on the shoulder, glanced at the finished stack of crates, and accompanied his guest and the delivery men back upstairs to the kitchen. 

The two men were sitting at the antique dining table an hour later when Mrs. Pena stumbled sleepily into the room for morning coffee. By the time breakfast platters were laid out onto the buffet table, another sleepy straggler wandered into the room. Ixidro held out a chair for his daughter, and she sat down without a word to anyone. Mrs. Pena fixed a plate and put it down in front of the young woman, putting a fork into her hand and starting her into motion by lifting a bite of scrambled eggs into position. 

"Good girl, Janine," the older woman cooed, her Georgia accent perfectly clear, no attempt made at hiding it with a false Basque cover. "That's it. Eat your breakfast. Now, take another bite." She kept her attention fixed on her daughter, and made sure that she cleaned her plate. When the young woman was done, Mrs. Pena wiped the girl's face and hands clean and escorted her from the table. 

"She's a beautiful girl," Justin observed to his host after mother and daughter had left the room. "You must love her very much." 

A grimace of pain flashed briefly across the older man's face. "Yes. She was brilliant once, like her twin sister, but there was..." He hesitated. "...an accident. Janine never recovered." 

"But your other daughter wasn't hurt," Justin presumed, the last of the missing pieces falling into place. He surmised that what had happened to Janine Tansey had been no accident, but the result of some project of the Centre's. That had been the final straw, the impetus that had sent the Tansey family into hiding, and kept Jennifer -- Gemini -- looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life. That encounter was what drove Gemini to seek justice for others the same way Jarod had, and her mistrust of others was why she kept him and everyone else at arm's length. She wouldn't allow herself to love him, not until he managed to cross the line in the sand that she had drawn for him. And Janine was the key. 

"No," sighed Ixidro Pena, but his brow furrowed. "She goes her own way now. Comes to visit now and then. But she isn't very sociable, I'm afraid. Perhaps you'll meet her before you go." 

Justin sat his cup of black coffee down on the saucer and folded his hands on the tablecloth. "I have a confession to make, sir," he began, and launched into the truth about why he had come. The two men sat in conference well into afternoon, adjourning to the vineyard and a pleasant stroll as they talked. By suppertime an agreement had been reached between them, sealed the old-fashioned way with a word and a handshake, and they returned to the house together. 

Justin saw the woman of his dreams sunning on a chaise lounger in a rear garden as they returned to the house, but her eyes were closed and she did not see him. He smiled, and followed Mr. Pena into the house, down the hall to the family apartments, and into a lovely suite of rooms decorated with Beatrix Potter bunnies. He took a seat on the floor, cross-legged, and played jacks with Janine Tansey while her mother brushed and re-braided her hair, and then he read aloud a few chapters of _The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe_ by C.S. Lewis. One by one the Penas left the room, and a little while later, Gemini came to fetch her twin to the dinner table. 

She froze in the doorway when she spied Justin playing Barbies with Janine on the window seat. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" Gemini demanded in a soft growl. 

"Getting acquainted with your family," he answered casually.  

"Barbie wants Ken to kiss her," said Janine, and bounced her lovingly abused blonde doll across the padded seat toward his plastic-coifed doll. 

Justin smiled and pressed his doll's lips to hers, complete with smacking sound. 

"I told you to leave yesterday, Justin," Gemini groused, disturbed by the obvious enjoyment he exhibited in the innocent play. 

"Let's go have a picnic for supper," he suggested via his Ken doll. "It's a lovely day outside, and there's a beautiful sunset coming down on the hills." 

Janine said, "Okay!" and bounded off the window seat, doll clutched tightly in hand, and headed for her bedroom door. 

Justin got up to follow her, breezing right by Gemini without a word. He paused in the doorway and glanced back at her without stopping completely. "You coming?" And then he was gone. 

Gemini gritted her teeth and followed them outside onto the patio. Her parents made only a brief appearance, long enough to lay out a blanket for them to sit on, the basket of goodies and utensils, and with secretive smiles they vanished back into the house, leaving the trio alone in the courtyard garden. Gemini watched as Justin prepared a plate for her sister expertly, and got her started eating as if he'd been doing it all his life. 

"I know what it feels like to have a twin," he said quietly as he laid himself back on the blanket, his arms crossed beneath his dark head. "I can imagine what you've been through with Janine, and how much you love her." 

Gemini said nothing, and turned her face toward the hills to watch the sky color up with sunset. A slight breeze picked up and lifted tendrils of her newly blackened hair away from her face. She wanted to ignore him, but couldn't. Her attention fixed on him like iron filings drawn to a lodestone. 

"Were you afraid I wouldn't be able to love her, too?" he asked gently. 

She didn't answer. After a moment, she picked up a plate and began to fill it with food. 

"How could I not?" he went on warmly. "She's part of you. And I, of all people, know how much it hurts to lose your twin. Remember?" 

Gemini faced him then, pain and anger challenging him in her eyes. "I haven't lost Janine," she snapped. 

Justin reached up to the silent young woman beside him and stroked a wisp of wayward hair tenderly back from her cheek as she ate. He wouldn't argue, knowing that she understood his meaning. Janine smiled briefly at him, patted his hand, and resumed feeding. "Good girl," he praised. "You have a good appetite today." 

"She always eats well when I'm home," Gemini snapped. 

He regarded her with a frank stare. "Then you should be home more often." 

Hot color flashed up in her face. "Who are you to be telling me what to do?" she demanded. 

Janine stopped eating and dropped her chicken leg onto her plate. She wiped her greasy hands on the blanket, scooted closer to her twin and laid down with her head in her sister's lap. "Two?" she cooed, uncomfortable with her sister's foul mood. 

Gemini's crossness vanished, and she smiled down at her beloved, childlike sister, stroking her cheek gently. "One," she replied emphatically. "Janine and Jennifer are one." 

"Janine, Jennifer, Justin," said Janine. "J, J, J." 

Justin rolled onto his side and held an empty hand up in the air before Janine's face, showed her both sides of his palm, then magically produced a Polaroid photograph he had taken at Harper's Rest. Janine was entranced. 

"Justin, Jennifer, Justin!" 

He corrected her. "Justin, Jennifer, Jarod." Leaving the photo in her wondering hands, he turned his attention back to the sky and began to speak quietly aloud. "You and I were the lucky ones, Gemini. We didn't get where we are completely unscathed, but we had the chance to do a lot of good with our lives, and neither of us really did. You're a thief and I'm a con man." 

"I've done some good with my talents." 

"Me, too. Up until I left Harper's Rest I was hip deep in the study of producing artificial gravity and environmental repair." Janine squirmed out of her sister's lap and laid her head on his belly, still staring at the photograph. Justin began to stroke her hair idly, and closed his eyes. "But we've pretty much wasted ourselves, holding back, waiting for... something to happen to us to make us whole again." 

"And you think it has," she summed up sarcastically. "I don't see that anything's changed at all." 

"You don't _want_ to see it, Gemini. You want to be safe in your emotionless little world, where everything follows a logical plan and has reasons for being." He raised his head enough to make momentary eye contact with a smiling Janine, and winked at her. "But some things defy the boundaries you try to fit them into. Sometimes they're just meant to be enjoyed for what they are." 

"Like my sister?" 

He smiled, and met her eyes with a look that could have melted stone. "Like her innocence. And her love. Hers, and mine." 

Gemini got up and dusted crumbs off her lap, casting a petulant glare at him as she stalked back into the house. 

Justin lay where he was, enjoying the fading sunlight, and the warmth of the child-woman lying half across him. 

But as she stepped into the house Gemini heard the insistent tone of a perimeter alarm chiming indoors and ran to the surveillance room. Her father was already at the controls, attempting to activate countermeasures while her mother ran from the kitchen toward the courtyard to bring the others inside the shelter of the house. Gemini watched in horrified disbelief as a sniper stood up from the shelter of some bushes near the crest of a hill, aimed his rifle, and fired. 

A scream pealed off her lips as she spun out of the doorway and raced back down the hall, outside into the last of the dying sunlight. She did not have to stop to see the couple on the ground to know what had happened; she felt the bullet hit as if it had impacted into her own flesh. The searing pain did not stop her and she ran across the courtyard, pouring on every bit of speed she could muster. 

She could see the sniper's dark shape aiming the rifle toward her, could almost see the expression of surprise on her face as he sighted the crosshairs on her head and realized his mistake. But he never had the chance to pull the trigger. With a flash of her hand in the air, the weapon slammed upward, out of his grasp, and bashed itself against his forehead, knocking him to the ground. Before he could rise and stumble to his feet she was on him, kicking and screaming, clawing at his face in hysterical, mindless rage. Moments later hands were pulling her off him, voices commanding her not to kill.  

Gemini seemed to wilt as the strength of her fury seeped out of her and grief began to settle in its place. She slumped against Justin, aware of the blood on his shirt soaking into her tunic, and no longer able to hold back the tears. She began to cry, her knees buckling beneath her, and Justin lowered her gently to the ground, turning his attention to the immobilization of the sniper lying beside her. 

"Who sent you?" Justin demanded hotly. "How did you find us?" He glanced at Gemini with anguish in his eyes. "I swear there was no one following me. I made sure of it, Gemini." 

"That's right, pal," the man said through bloody lips, failing to manage a sneer against the pain of his damaged face. "But the Centre just finished implementation of a Hunters program, and I was top of my class. The little lady led me here all by herself. Thinks she's too damn smart to cover her tracks anymore. Cocky bitch left a trail as wide as a runway." He chuckled coldly. "Mr. Raines said to remind you not to fuck with him either, if I got the chance. So I guess you'll remember that now." 

Justin gave the man a savage kick to the kidney. He yelped and lay still. 

For a long time, Gemini didn't move from her silent perch on the side of the hill. Justin dragged the man inside the house and sent for the police and a coroner, changed his clothes, and returned to Gemini's side. When she would not rise, he lifted her up in his arms and carried her into the house, laying her out on her bed and leaving her in her mother's care while he went to stand guard over Janine's body, waiting for the authorities to arrive. 

Ixidro Pena accompanied his daughter's body into Getaria to begin funeral arrangements, and when the police were finished with their interviews, Justin returned to Gemini's room. Mrs. Pena left to join her husband, and Justin undressed himself and Gemini, and turned down the bed beneath her. 

He lay beside her most of the night, just holding her, waiting for her to fall asleep or speak, to respond to him in some fashion, but she lay unmoving, eyes staring blindly up at the ceiling, her face an expressionless mask. 

As dawn began to color the sky, she pulled him to her, embracing him with arms and legs, her face buried against his throat. She rubbed against him slowly, silently demanding a response, and when he was fully aroused she reached between them and guided him inside her. He did not protest, knowing that her actions were driven more by a need for comfort than by lust, and he made love to her gently, tenderly, holding her close against him until he felt her trembling beneath him, tears streaming across her temples and onto his fingertips. 

"You're not alone," he whispered reassuringly. "We have each other." He kissed her forehead, unable to bear the intimacy of her lips against his. "You're inside me, Jennifer. You have been since the moment we met. Let me inside you. Please? I need you." 

A small cry escaped her, and her hips rocked upward, drawing him deeper into her body. Her hands grasped his face, scratchy with beard stubble, and she covered his mouth with her own. Emotions swirled between them, washing deeply into their souls, and the last of her resistance crumbled beneath the waves. Her loss had left her defenseless against him, and in that moment she gave herself up to him completely. Grief became desperation and she clawed at his buttocks, needing more of him, all of him, driving him deeper still. Passion exploded, demanding every ounce of strength they possessed.  

Her name was a sob on his lips as he let go of his own emotions. Hands intertwined and pressed into the pillows. Hips ground together against the sheets. Unbridled cries rang in the silent room, cresting with violent thrusts as man and woman united in grief and comfort in the small, single bed. And as the room began to fill with gray light at the start of a new day, Gemini looked up into the eyes of the man above her and saw the tears streaking silently down his face, and smiled. 

The smile turned into a sad chuckle, and more tears spilled from her own eyes. 

Justin raised up in his palms above her, and wiped his cheeks quickly with one hand. 

"What's so funny?" he demanded gently. 

"I think you just got your wish," she replied, her smile fading to a soft glow. 

A frown of confusion perched between his thick brows. 

"I haven't been on the Pill for months." 

Shock dawned on his face, replaced quickly by disbelief. "You couldn't possibly know this soon," he told her certainly. 

"Sometimes women do know these things. You just got me pregnant, Justin Pierce. Wait and see." 

He settled above her and kissed her tenderly, holding her close against him.  

Neither of them was in the mood for celebration or levity, but the loss of Janine was no longer as crushing as it had been an hour before.  

She cuddled up in his arms with a sad, trembling sigh, and drifted off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Broots fingered the letter nervously, and crumpled it back down into the left pocket of his cardigan. People didn't resign their posts at the Centre; it just wasn't done. You got retired and no one ever saw you again... but that had been before all the trouble and the disappearances of key personnel. An air of terror suffocated everyone on the staff lately, and the technician was not spared that fear either. But unlike the others cowering at their terminals, waiting for the death knell, he had done something about it. A new position awaited him, and as soon as he could get off duty, he would be hustling his daughter and a handful of possessions into his car, and disappearing into the night. 

Mr. Parker swept into the room, and all whispered conversation ceased immediately. His eyes roamed the Tech Room restlessly, his perpetual frown accentuated by the deep lines carved into his sagging face. Then his full attention landed on Broots, and he strode briskly over to his cubicle. 

"Have you heard from my daughter lately, Mr. Broots?" he demanded. 

Broots still couldn't get used to hearing the honorific "Mister" in front of his name in that place. "Um, no sir." He swallowed hard. "I've been cleaning up Mr. Raines's files, like you told me to. Everything's been put onto DSA format, except for the--" 

"Never mind all that," Parker snorted. "I was hoping Morgan would have called with an offer of immunity..." 

Broots glanced away at his keyboard, distinctly uncomfortable by Mr. Parker's presence. "I haven't heard a thing, I swear." 

Parker nodded, frowning mightily. "All right then. I want you to conduct a thorough sweep of all surveillance units--" 

"But, sir, that's not my area--" 

"Just _do it,_ Mr. Broots!" Parker snapped harshly. Some of the venom seemed to flow out with his weary exhalation, and his voice softened. "Just do it." 

"Yes, sir." Broots' eyes followed him out of the Tech Room, and he sat staring at his screen, wondering what that assignment could possibly accomplish. He wasn't a security specialist, and never messed with the monitors except to freeze-frame a few during some of the undercover searches he and Sydney and Miss Parker had managed during their exploration of the Centre's nether regions.  

He got up and relayed his orders to the security team, and sat down in the command chair. After a few minutes of tinkering with the settings, he began a rotation of all security transmissions, in every room in the Centre. He asked for a cup of coffee, prepared to be at the desk for hours longer than his final day of service was supposed to extend. 

But when the camera in one of the lower floors switched on and revealed the shadowy cell and its single, broken occupant, he could not believe his eyes, and quickly zoomed in on that damaged, swollen face. A yelp of pure joy choked him as he struggled to keep it in his throat, and he spilled his coffee all over the control panel in his excitement. He hurried through the remainder of the day, taking note of all the other important things on his list, and clocked out to go home for the day. He would not be packing up as he had planned, and his answer to the promising offer in his cardigan pocket would include a bit of a delay. 

Once he had his daughter tucked safely in bed, he got on-line on his home account and sent an e-mail to Miss Parker's private account, hoping she would read it soon. 

 

* * *

 

 

"Do you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold until death do you part?" 

"I do," replied Jarod firmly as he held Faith's hands in his. "I most certainly do." 

"Then by the power vested in me by the state of New Mexico, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride." 

He did, and the entire population of the St. James Foundation celebrated accordingly. This was the second ceremony in as many days, and Jarod joyfully felt the smooth, solid weight of the plain gold band encircling his finger without looking at it. Hosteen Gorman had conducted a traditional Navajo wedding the day before in honor of Jarod's Native American heritage, and he had married his bride under her former name, Athena Morgan Demara. The civil ceremony was for formality's sake, to give additional credence to her new name, which would go on the official records.  

The whole family was assembled for the weddings in the wake of the last trial, including Justin and Gemini, who wore matching silver dragon rings on their left hands, but made no mention of any formalities they might have observed prior to returning for Jarod and Faith's marriage. Each of the couples had chosen to refrain from formalizing commitments until after the retribution had been accomplished, and now that it had, bonds were being forged. 

Miss Parker, now using her mother's maiden name as her own, came to observe the ceremony at Jarod's insistence. And she had a particularly appropriate gift to give the bride and groom at the reception to follow. 

She told Jarod and Faith quietly once the party had begun to die down a little, and after he kissed her soundly and squeezed the breath out of her in gratitude, she turned to seek out another friendly face standing at the edge of the crowd outside the chapel. It was a beautiful Indian Summer afternoon, and Jonathan St. James looked distinctly uncomfortable in a suit, but particularly handsome nonetheless. 

She took him by the elbow and led him off toward the garage, suggesting a ride on his Harley to allow them both to relax. They walked in silence to the stall, and when they arrived a small box rested on the upholstered seat. Jay picked it up and started to hand it to her. 

"That's for you," she told him quietly, and watched him open it and lift out a handsome pair of black leather driving gloves. 

"Nice," he commented with a pleased smile, and started to put them on. He hesitated. "We should probably change clothes first, don't you think?" 

She raised her short, tight skirt a fraction more and straddled the leather seat with a shake of her head. "This'll do just fine," she purred. 

Jay put on the right glove first, then eased into the left. 

And stopped halfway in. He withdrew his hand and saw a gold ring studded with an inset emerald cut diamond that nearly knocked his eyes out in the soft light filtering in through the open doorway. He whistled at the expense alone, then his startled eyes shifted back to hers quickly in silent question. 

"You're not the kind of guy who asks," she said huskily. "But I thought you might be the kind who answers." 

He smiled, its brightness growing radically in candlepower as he slipped the ring on his finger. "Whoever heard of a guy wearing an engagement ring," he snorted playfully, holding out his hand for her inspection.

She cocked an auburn eyebrow at him and fired back, "If you expect me to be the kind of woman who follows trends, then this definitely won't work." 

"Not for a second, Rio," he assured her, and climbed on the motorcycle behind her, running his hands up her thighs as she cranked the ignition. 

They tore out of the garage with a spray of dirt and gravel, and headed out onto the highway on the start of a new chapter in their lives.

 

* * *

 

 

"Where will you be going on your honeymoon?" Grace asked Jarod as she took him by the arm. She led him out of the main house, into the landscaped yard as the moon began to rise. 

He grinned down at her. "To Delaware." 

She frowned. "I should think that would be the last place on Earth you'd want to go, Jarod. Or do you have something special in mind?" 

"I'm going to do something I should've done a long time ago. And I want you to come with me." 

"Whatever for?" 

"Catherine Jameson brought me an unexpected present today, and I want you to be there when I open it." 

Her eyebrows twitched together. "My, but you're being cryptic tonight. Do I have a choice?" She saw the joy radiating from his face, and sighed. "Looks like you've come a long way with putting your soul back together, son. I'll bet your mother had a lot to do with that." 

He nodded, his mind racing ahead, picturing what lay before him, anxious to get the last of his past out of the way of his future. "I gave orders to the staff to have our things packed as soon as possible, Grace, and chartered a plane at the airport. We should be going now." 

For a moment she let go of his arm and stepped back, turning eyes darkened with fear and grief up to his. "Do I have to go, Jarod? That place is where Sydney--" 

She couldn't finish the thought, and turned away. 

Jarod laid his hands lightly on her shoulders. "Yes, Grace. More than anyone else, I need you there with me." 

She nodded, accepting, and patted his hand. "Then I'll go change clothes and call for the car." 

"It's waiting out front." He started to step away, but his name on her lips kept him there another moment. 

"What will you do with your life now, son?" 

"I don't know. I'll need some help with that." 

Grace turned in his embrace to face him, her eyes pleading. "You have your family back now, love. A mother, father and brother that you never knew." She sighed a ragged breath and plunged in, regardless of the tiny voice whispering into the back of her mind that she should keep quiet. "But you did have family that was with you every day, someone who cared, whether he ever admitted it to you or not. I'd like to see you honor his memory, to give his spirit the peace it needs, by acknowledging that you loved Sydney like a father. He was so proud of you, son. And he could never let you know the barest whisper of it." 

Jarod smiled back at her, pain tugging at the corners of his mouth, warring with a shadow of peace in his eyes. "I know, Pooh. It's taken me a long time to realize how much I loved him too. Every little boy needs a father who's proud of him, who loves and protects him. Part of me recognized that in him, all along, even though he couldn't let it show. Somehow I understood, way down inside. That's why I couldn't let go of him when I left the Centre. I wanted him to know I was all right, that I was helping people. And that I was free to become the person he helped me to become." He frowned. "However dark and twisted that person was inside, there was also a lot of good in there. You and my parents are helping me to heal the damaged parts. And one day, I'll be..." He smiled again, sadly. "...well, maybe not quite whole. But one day I'll be able to get through a day without remembering the pain I'm leaving behind. I promise you that." 

He kissed her cheek, hugged her briefly, and let her go to gather up the rest of the passengers for the plane he would be flying east in a few hours. It was evening now, and he wanted to arrive well before dawn. There were still more details to attend to, but he would have to deal with those as the opportunity presented itself.  

And for the first time in his life, he looked forward to returning to the only home he could remember.

 

* * *

 

 

Trucks and vans and cars rolled up to the great blond fortress just as the sky began to lighten with the coming of day. The private army took control of the gates as they passed through them, relieving armed guards of their weapons and loading them up for transport to the nearest airport and away. The front desk security team gave up without a fight, and as the troops moved farther into the edifice, they continued to find garlands of surrender laid in their path. No one resisted them at all, and the man at the head of the insertion team felt an incredible sense of relief. Gemini had broken the Centre completely, and all that remained was cleaning up the debris. 

Jarod took an elevator down to Sub Level 15 and into his old quarters, trembling as he opened the doorway for the last time. Most of the furniture had been stripped from the rooms, all the books taken away, and the soft white sofa had been replaced with a gurney. A wheelchair sat parked beside it, and the man seated there in the shadows did not move in response to the opened door. 

The Pretender sniffed the dank, potent smell of approaching death, and felt part of himself draw up into a tight, painful ball inside. He neared the chair slowly, waiting to be acknowledged, the sickly sweet odor of starvation strong in his nostrils. Kneeling before the seated figure, still dressed in a crumpled, soiled suit, he laid his hands gently over the wrinkled ones lying uselessly in the old man's lap. 

"Sydney," Jarod whispered, gazing up into the lined, weary face of his mentor. "Sydney, it's me." 

For a moment, there was nothing. Then a light seemed to switch on in his eyes, and stark terror forced the facial muscles to work. Sydney lifted his head slightly, attempting to make eye contact, his gaze unfocused, confused. 

"Jarod!" he wheezed painfully, desperately, his sentences coming out in natural Flemish rather than translating into English. "You've got to get out of here! Quickly, before Raines knows you're here!" 

Jarod squeezed the older man's hands affectionately. "It's all right. Raines is in prison, and the Centre has fallen. We're free. Everybody's free now, and Grace is upstairs, waiting for you to come back to her." 

Fear faded into dull disbelief. "How?" 

"It's a long story, Sydney," said Jarod with a proud smile. "Broots tells me you were helping the children escape, getting them back to their families." 

Sydney nodded a moment later, his head drooping wearily from the effort of holding it up. "Couldn't forgive myself without having tried..." 

"I know." Jarod rose slightly, easing his right arm behind his mentor's shoulders, cradling that old gray head awkwardly against his shoulder with his left hand. "I'm sorry, Sydney. I didn't understand how much you suffered with me all these years. Grace explained it to me." 

"I should have helped you escape... little boy," Sydney breathed, struggling to lift a weak hand to clasp Jarod in return. 

Jarod hugged Sydney a little harder, careful not to put too much strength into it and bruise him. He eased slowly out of the embrace and met the old man's eyes once more, eyes glowing with satisfaction and pride. Eyes filled with love Jarod could never see before. "I've been thinking about that," he said slowly. "And if I had gotten out as a child, the Centre would have eventually found me again and brought me back. I wouldn't have been able to outwit hunters as easily, especially not if I had been placed with an adoptive family." He laid his hands on Sydney's once again, covering them warmly. "I think you really did protect me while I was here, didn't you?" 

The word took a long time coming, and brought tears along with it. 

"Yes." 

Jarod started to rise, a painful smile digging into his cheeks as he fought to hold back his own tears. But Sydney grasped his wrist and held him fast, raised his head wearily and gazed up at his young charge with eyes of wisdom and experience, filled with childlike hope. "Forgive... me?" 

Jarod reached out and held the old man's battered face in his hands and laid a light kiss on his forehead. 

"There's nothing to forgive," he answered simply, and moved behind the wheelchair to release the brake and push his friend and mentor upstairs to the woman who waited for him. 

Grace took Sydney to the limousine with her and on to the nearest medical facility, and Jarod headed for the SIS control room. He personally shut off the security measures, unlocked every door, and then took the elevator down to Sub Level 1 to begin the evacuation. 

 

* * *

 

 

A lone little boy, about four or five years old, stood in the hallway poised to run. But the child held his ground as a tall stranger approached, glancing into every open doorway he passed, smiling broadly at every small face he saw. 

The tall man squatted on his haunches several feet away, and held out his hand toward the boy. 

"Hi, there," said the man. 

The boy glared suspiciously at that outstretched hand. "I wanna go home," he said emphatically. 

"I'll bet your parents miss you very much," said the man. "Do you know your parents' names or your address?" 

"Heather and James Garcia," recited the boy promptly. "3224 University, San Antonio, Texas 75208." 

"Very good!" said the man. "We'll have an easy time getting you home." He stood up, still smiling, watching the other boys and girls edging cautiously out of their cells, wandering slowly closer. 

"I don't have a home," said one boy, about ten years old. "My parents are dead." 

"Then you'll have a home with me," the tall man promised. "Out west, where you can play in the sunshine and ride horses and chase sheep when no one's looking." 

The boy didn't smile. That he had been at the Centre for years was evident in the haunted shadows in his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to believe. 

"My name's Jordan," he said solemnly. "What's yours?" 

The tall man came toward him and held out his hand. Jordan took it, and after a brief gentlemanly shake, the man adjusted his grip and led the boy down the hallway toward the elevator, gesturing to all the other children to come along. 

"My name's Jarod," he said quietly, peacefully. "Jarod Pierce St. James." He sighed and blinked back a tear. "Let's go home. All of us." 

He gathered the children around him and shepherded them toward the elevator, then led them outside into the fresh air and the brightness of sunrise at Blue Cove. 

**_THE END OF THE JOURNEY_ **

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who are still wondering about some of the items I left dangling, here are the answers that I would have written, had I been able to find a proper spot for them in the story line. But since all tales must have both a beginning and an end, I have chosen to end this series at the beginning... a new beginning for everyone involved, The Pretender's characters and the ones I added along the way. 
> 
> 1) That letter in Broots' pocket was an offer of employment from Bill Gates himself. Yep, folks, our Brootsie has gone to work for Microsoft! ;-) 
> 
> 2) Gemini was definitely pregnant, and nine months later she delivered twin girls which she and Justin named Janine and Jennifer. 
> 
> 3) Miss Parker, AKA Catherine Jameson nee St. James, established a successful practice as a District Attorney in New England. Her office was known for seeking out the stiffest penalties for all crimes traveling through her portion of the justice department, and Jonathan St. James started a private research firm concerned with new designs for personal transportation vehicles that could fly and submerge as well as travel on land. His cousins contributed regularly to design engineering. 
> 
> 4) Sydney recovered completely and set up a practice at the Foundation, helping Centre refugees readjust to normal life after the traumas they suffered there. Many of the victims were reunited with their families, and those who could not be were given new lives through Foundation resources. 
> 
> 5) Grace and Sydney probably got married, too, though they'd have been just as happy sneaking into each other's rooms at night. 
> 
> 6) Helen Pierce returned to her work at Harper's Rest, and her new husband, Joaquin St. James, accompanied her and became a gentleman farmer on one of the greenhouse levels. 
> 
> 7) Jarod eventually created a think tank of his own at the Foundation, where he and Faith settled down, and the venture was a tremendous success, gaining clients from all over the world. Only benevolent projects were undertaken, and all research subjects were entirely voluntary....... 
> 
> Which is exactly how another agency got its start.... 
> 
> And was passed on to twins, whose legacy was the betterment of mankind...... 
> 
> Kinda makes you wonder, hmmmm? 
> 
> \-- Scary, isn't it?


End file.
